Rabbithole
by Incatnito
Summary: While investigating a double homicide, the team goes on the hunt for a killer who has targeted one of their own.
1. Chapter 1

This is my first shot at a CSI: Miami fanfic. This was originally written and posted on another forum as a H/C fic but with the way canon seems to be heading, I revised the whole thing for Eric and Calleigh. A word of warning, this takes place in the third season - after Speed's death but before Hagan's suicide - so don't expect a 'happily ever after' E/C ending. According to canon, there's still Eric with Natalia and Calleigh with Jake, so while this story's ending will see some progress in the right direction, the complicated dance between these two will continue.

Usual warnings apply - characters not mine, no money, don't sue.

Chapter 1

Monday,

8:10 AM

Horatio Caine got out of his Hummer and walked over to where Detective Frank Tripp was standing in conversation with two uniforms. Finishing what he was telling the patrolmen, Tripp turned towards the house. "This one is going to be a bitch," was all he said at the moment. Caine was a man of few words and appreciated brevity. They stopped in the entrance of an expensive Miami home. Tripp glanced over at Horatio, "It's the Hennesseys."

Caine's eyebrows rose. Darian Hennessey was one of Miami's rich and powerful. Retired after amassing a fortune in the textile industry, talk had him about to throw his hat into the political ring. Tripp was right, this was going to be a bitch.

"Mr. Hennessey was found in the study at the back of the house. Two rounds to the chest." Tripp turned and gestured up the stairs, "Mrs. Hennessey was in the master bath, a round to the head. There doesn't seem to be anything out of place. He still had his wallet, her jewelry box was untouched. There's no one else living in the house. According to the neighbors, their kids are married and living out of state. They were well-liked and respected in the community. No one has any idea who would want to kill either of them. The maid found them when she came into work today."

Caine nodded slightly, "I'd say we have our work cut out for us." He came to a quick decision as he pulled out his cellphone. It would be better to get the whole team on this one right from the start. The double murder of the well-to-do couple would be all over the news soon enough. He needed to do what he could to get a jump on the evidence before it turned into a media feeding frenzy.

Monday,

8:45 AM

Alexx and Calleigh looked at the body of Darian Hennessey. He was in the middle of the floor on his back. A book was lying just outside his right hand. His eyes were still open, he looked surprised.

"Liver temp puts death about twelve hours ago. Entrance wounds in the upper and lower left quadrants of the chest. There's stippling so it was close range," Alexx noted. She rolled him on his side, "One exit wound, bottom of the upper right quadrant. Looks like he bled out but I'll be able to tell for sure at the post."

Calleigh knelt down to get a look, "From the size of it, I'd say it was at least a 9mm. No casings, the killer took the time to clean up after himself." She glanced over her shoulder and then stood up, "It looks like he fell straight back." She tracked the trajectory in her mind, then picked up her kit and strode to the far wall, "So the slug should be somewhere around here... "

Eric looked into the master bath where Wolfe was taking photographs, "What have you got so far?"

"High velocity spatter with a gap." Ryan glanced over at Delko, "Our perp's got blood and brain matter on him. There's a partial footprint, big enough to be a man. Apparently our shooter just walked right up to the vic and opened fire. It doesn't look like she tried to stand up or turn away. Either she was too frightened to move or she didn't think he'd shoot."

"Maybe she was asleep," Delko offered, looking around the bathroom. "My sisters would do it all the time. Bubble bath, candles, music - then they'd conk out. I don't know why they never drowned."

Ryan considered the scenario and then shook his head, "One day, someone is going to have to explain to me about women and bubble baths."

Wednesday,

8:30 AM

Horatio strode to the conference room where he was meeting with Eric and Calleigh. The picture the Hennessey case presented was frustratingly incomplete. There were secrets lurking within that house and Caine was determined to expose them. Although it had been less than 72 hours since the murders occurred, the pressure was mounting for some sort of progress. Part of the pressure was coming from above, quite a bit was coming from the outside. Daniel Hennessey, the eldest son of Darian and Constance, had blown into town full of grief, anger and indignant impatience. He wanted answers and he wanted the murderer and he wanted them immediately. Unsatisfied with what Horatio would tell him, he'd taken his case to the media and given them an earful.

With the unwelcome goading from Daniel, the well-to-do couple's double homicide had turned into the media circus that Horatio had feared. Deep in the midst of the summer doldrums, editors and news directors gleefully latched onto the case, using Daniel Hennessey's ranting as a colorful backdrop. Although it wasn't on the scale of an OJ Simpson or a Robert Blake, it was as close to a celebrity murder as Miami had come lately and they intended to make the most of it. Horatio had already heard from further up the chain of command that there had better not be any screw-ups. It had necessitated stationing a patrolman at the crime scene to keep overzealous reporters out.

At the moment, they were fresh out of leads. The Hennesseys seemed like the perfect couple. Even their household employees had nothing but good things to say about them and seemed genuinely grief-stricken at their demise. Darian and Constance sounded too good to be true, so why would anyone kill them? It was a mystery Horatio was determined to solve. They were delving deeper into the Hennesseys' backgrounds but it was slow going. It seemed that Darian Hennessey was powerful enough even in death to warrant discretion on the part of friends and colleagues.

Stymied on that front, Caine was not one to give up easily. He firmly subscribed to the old adage when all else fails, go back to the source. A second, expanded look at the house and crime scene might bring forward something that hadn't been apparent the first time. Horatio had made the decision to have his most experienced CSIs handle this latest examination. Calleigh and Eric would process the place again while Wolfe continued analyzing the trace evidence already gathered. The two would head over while Horatio attempted to distract the media.

With Frank's help, they would do what they could to keep the press at arm's length. All manner of media types were crawling out of the woodwork, each doing his or her best to bring back the most memorable soundbite. Not only were they staking out the Hennessey house, they were also circling Police Headquarters. Security had been kept busy chasing the more persistent ones out of the parking garage. In an effort to give his people breathing space, Horatio and Frank had decided to hold a press conference. Hopefully, this would keep the reporters' attention focused away from the Hennessey home and his CSIs would be able to go over the crime scenes again without having half a dozen microphones and cameras shoved in their faces.

Wednesday,

9:10 AM

Calleigh and Eric grabbed their kits out of the Hummer and walked up to the house. "Back again," Delko commented. Calleigh nodded absently. Eric looked over at her, "You okay? You seem kind of distracted." She'd appeared normal enough during their meeting with Horatio. Those two definitely worked on identical wavelengths. It was no wonder she was the unofficial second-in-command at the lab. Calleigh had the same knack for making intuitive leaps when pursuing evidence that Horatio did and she had fully concurred with his opinion that there was more to be found. It had been on the drive over that she'd grown somewhat pensive.

She flashed him a quick smile, "I'm sorry, I'm fine." Calleigh paused and then added off-handedly, "Family stuff... you know how it is." She knew Eric wasn't one to pry merely for prying's sake and was only concerned. She didn't want to hurt his feelings and this was one excuse that was guaranteed to give her some room. It even held a kernel of truth. She just wouldn't tell him that the 'family stuff' was actually about her and the prickly feeling that something was, or was about to go, wrong. She didn't believe in psychic mumbo-jumbo, having endured a surfeit of the same while growing up.

Her great-aunt on her mother's side, Aunt Alma Dee, had always claimed to have second sight and was forever getting 'feelings' of approaching doom. Nothing seemed to please the old woman more than predicting catastrophe and ill fortune. Given the predilection towards, and the consequences of excessive drink that Calleigh's parents shared, the Duquesnes were among her favorite targets. Calleigh, who took pride in a proper Southern upbringing, had bitten her tongue with every triumphant 'I told you so' issued by the old biddy. Aunt Alma had had a field day when she'd heard about Calleigh joining the police force. After the initial spate of doom-laden predictions (none of which came to pass), Alma was finally reduced to a list of dire warnings which she continued to send annually along with a Christmas card. Her second sight apparently failed to see the incongruity.

Calleigh had dismissed it then and was all for dismissing it now. For the life of her, she couldn't pinpoint a reason for feeling the way she was and that was damned annoying. Even more annoying was the fact that she couldn't seem to shake it. For someone who lived and breathed cold, hard evidence, this was just plain crazy. One thing was certain, though, she definitely wasn't planning on sharing this particular subject with Eric. They were close enough that he'd have fun giving her hell about her faulty 'feminine intuition' until she'd have to seriously consider shooting him.

Meanwhile, Eric was nodding sympathetically. He didn't know a lot about her family but he'd seen enough to realize how touchy she could be on the subject. He was a little surprised that Calleigh had mentioned them at all but figured she'd talk when she was ready. Cautiously, he ventured, "Hey, if you need an ear, just yell."

This time, Calleigh's smile was brighter, reminded once again of what a good friend Eric truly was. Although it would have taken wild horses to drag it out of her, she'd always felt an attraction towards her fellow CSI. They'd grown closer over the years and while she counted herself lucky to have him in her life, she was also aware it wasn't going to go beyond friendship. Tall, dark and handsome, Eric was a player and she simply wasn't his type, "Thanks, I appreciate the offer." They reached the entrance foyer and stopped. She glanced up at Delko, "How do you want to handle this?"

Eric smiled. It was so typical of Calleigh not to flaunt the fact that she was the lead CSI. Speed had once joked that it was noblesse oblige, one of the inevitable consequences of a Southern Belle upbringing. That innate politeness, however, didn't mean that she allowed anyone to run roughshod over her. Eric had learned in a hurry that she was quite capable of flaying someone alive when necessary. Invariably, some newbie detective or lawyer would make the mistake of judging her strictly on appearance. She'd get that look on her face and then it was 'Katie bar the door'. Eric always wished he could figure out ahead of time when these things would happen - he'd sell tickets and clean up. Looking down at the blonde, he paused thoughtfully, "How about we each take a scene? I'll take the upstairs one," he offered gallantly.

Calleigh looked up the long, winding staircase, "Deal." Soon enough, she was deeply immersed in her investigation. Methodically, she worked the scene, starting where the body had been and moving slowly outward. Reaching the desk up against the wall, she directed her light around the sides and stopped. A small flash of white had caught her eye.

Intrigued, she knelt down for a closer look. It was the corner of an envelope but there wasn't even enough room to slide her fingers in to reach it. Calleigh stood up and eyed the desk. It was large, ornate and very solid-looking. Moving this thing was going to be a challenge. Grabbing a corner, she braced herself and pulled. It barely moved an inch. Damn, the thing probably weighed more than she did. Cal toyed with the idea of calling Eric down and then decided against it. It was hard enough working in a field dominated by men without handing them ammunition about the 'weaker sex'. Not that Eric was like that, but he wouldn't be able to resist some light-hearted teasing and she just wasn't in the mood.

She braced herself and yanked again, hoping her back wasn't going to pay the price in her stand for sisterhood. Again, the desk moved less than an inch. She crouched down next to it, there was just enough room to see. The envelope had been taped to the back of the desk. One corner had worked its way loose and had swung it down, exposing that little bit of an edge that had caught her attention. She shook her head. Horatio had been right about taking a second look. It was spooky, sometimes, how that man's mind worked. How could he have known?

Flattening her hand, Calleigh reached behind the desk and slid the envelope free. It was heavier than she expected but she managed to maintain a two-fingered grip until she had cleared the desk. Opening it up, she pulled out a handful of photographs and papers. Her eyebrows rose in surprise. The photos looked like video captures and they showed Mrs. Hennessey in a variety of compromising positions with a tawny-haired man. The documents looked like financial statements. Calleigh studied the pictures and felt a grim satisfaction. So much for the 'solid' marriage. She was probably looking at their number one suspect. This was a lead that could undoubtedly break the case wide open. Eric needed to see them. She stuffed everything back in the envelope and stood up.

Without warning, a heavy weight slammed Cal into the wall, driving the air from her lungs. Although she had instinctively braced against it, her head impacted hard enough to make her see stars. Dazed, her head throbbing, she struggled to draw a breath. A hand clamped over her mouth, yanking her away from the wall and then her back exploded in searing pain. Abruptly released, she collapsed forward and slid down the wall into a crumpled heap on the floor. Unable to move, Calleigh laid there on her side, blinking slowly at the envelope that had fallen from her hand during the attack. The pain was worse than anything she'd ever experienced.. She could feel a steady stream of blood pulsing out, soaking her clothes as it made its way to the floor. She had a sudden irrational fear that the room would fill with blood and she would drown.

A pair of shoes came into her field of vision and Calleigh's sense of confusion grew. Something wasn't right about the shoes but she couldn't make her mind cooperate. Why was it so hard to focus? That line of thought completely vanished when a large hand appeared and she saw the blood on it. Her blood, she realized in dull fascination. The hand picked up the envelope from where it had landed. It disappeared and the shoes turned and headed for the hallway. A few seconds later, they were back and moving quickly into the room. Calleigh watched as more of her assailant came into view. It was the man from the photographs and he was doing something at one of the floor to ceiling bookcases. He stepped back as that section of wall swung silently open revealing a hallway. The man vanished inside and the bookcase swung shut. It was like he'd never been there at all. 'Magic,' Cal thought fuzzily. The pain was disappearing and being replaced by a chilling numbness. 'Death', whispered a distant little corner of her mind and she wondered vaguely why she wasn't feeling more alarmed at the prospect. The numbness continued to spread. It was getting harder to keep her eyes open, harder to breathe.

Eric finished bagging his last sample and glanced at his watch. He'd been at it for little over an hour. The news conference was well over by now which meant that they could easily have company on their way out. Hell, considering the sheer nerve of some reporters, he wouldn't be surprised to find a few of them in the house. He snorted irritably at the thought. Wolfe might enjoy watching himself on the news but Eric didn't like it and he knew Calleigh didn't either. There were enough nutcases out there already, neither wanted to give them someone to fixate on. He looked around the bedroom one more time. Expanding the search for new evidence hadn't turned up anything obvious on the second floor although he'd bagged and tagged what he'd found just in case. Eric shrugged to himself, maybe Horatio's instincts had been wrong for once and there was nothing more to this than the Hennesseys being the unlucky victims of a random killer.

Grabbing his kit, he headed for the steps. "Hey Calleigh, how're you doing?" he called once he'd made it to the hallway leading to the study. When he didn't hear a reply, he shook his head. That woman was capable of tuning out the world when she was focused on a crime scene. It made her a very thorough investigator but sometimes it was a pain in the ass. He strode into the room, "C'mon Cal, it's not that hard a question." His good-natured gibe died in his throat. Dear god...


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Wednesday,

10:50 AM

Horatio Caine's headlong dash back to the Hennessey crime scene was worthy of a spot on the NASCAR circuit. His call had been the second from a frantic Eric, the first going to 911. He slid the Hummer to a screeching halt, ignoring looks from the uniforms and calls from the reporters circling the perimeter. Horatio hit the pavement running, making it up the walk just as the paramedics appeared in the doorway. Wordlessly, he watched as they swept by and then fell in beside Eric as they followed the fast-moving EMTs. "Talk to me," his voice sounded a lot calmer than he felt.

"I don't know, H," Eric was barely containing the bile roiling his stomach. Calleigh had been in trouble and he hadn't had an inkling. Dammit, how could he not have known? "We split up to work each crime scene."

Horatio nodded, that wasn't unusual. He gestured for Eric to hold up and directed his next question to the paramedic who was shutting the doors of the ambulance, "Where?" Frank Tripp arrived just then. To the unfamiliar eye, the big man looked as unflappable as ever but Horatio had no problem seeing beneath the surface to where anger and worry were going head to head. He wondered if he had appeared the same to Eric.

The young paramedic glanced warily at the detective. Incidents involving a cop always had the rest of them on edge, "St. Joe's."

Caine's next question was softer, "How bad?"

The paramedic looked uncomfortable and then settled on an apologetic shrug, "Not good."

Horatio felt Eric stiffen beside him. He looked over at Tripp, "We'll meet you at the hospital."

Frank nodded sharply. He directed a glare towards the patrolman who'd been stationed at the scene, "I'll be there as soon as I talk to a couple of people."

"Okay," Horatio took Eric by the arm, "Let's go." The drive to the hospital was silent. He was aware that Calleigh and Eric were close although he was pretty sure neither taken it past friendship yet. Caine knew his team well. Eric was an easy read - he brightened whenever the diminutive blonde was in his presence. Calleigh would be the cautious one about any sort of relationship, especially given Delko's reputation for playing the field. When Horatio had gone to New Orleans to hire Cal, he'd gotten an earful from her overprotective supervisor. Lt. Markus Cabell was a fierce old Southern gentleman and Caine fully believed his threat to emasculate any Miami-Dade male who trifled with his protege. Appearances to the contrary, Calleigh had had a hellacious childhood. Horatio knew from experience how that could affect a person. He thought the world of his 'Bulletgirl' and was hoping that she'd realize one day what she had in Eric. She deserved to be happy.

She certainly didn't deserve this. Whatever the hell had happened at the scene, he'd wait and ask his questions when Tripp was there as well. Caine was positive that Eric wouldn't want to go through this twice. They arrived at the hospital in time to watch Calleigh being rolled into an exam room. It was both reassuring and frightening seeing the number of medical personnel that had quickly converged when their ballistic expert entered the ER. Obviously, the paramedics had been in contact with the hospital en route. Horatio could only hope that it hadn't meant that Calleigh's condition had grown more precarious.

Thirty-five minutes later, he and Frank sat in chairs in the waiting room watching Eric pace back and forth. Horatio cleared his throat, gaining the young man's attention, "What happened, Eric?"

Delko threw his hands in the air, "Hell, I don't know, H! I don't have one goddamn clue!" He dropped into a chair and hunched over. The fear and guilt he was feeling threatened to choke him. Resting his elbows on his knees, he stared at the specks of dried blood on his hands and wrists. There'd been so much, too much for someone as small as Calleigh. What would he do if she died? It would kill him, too. He was barely holding it together dealing with Speed's death. "Do you think she'll be okay?" Eric was desperate for any type of reassurance.

"I hope so," Horatio answered quietly, "Calleigh's a lot tougher than you'd think." He leaned back, "Start at the beginning, Eric. I want whoever did this." There was a dangerous quality to Caine's voice that had Tripp eyeing him warily.

"You think I don't?!" Eric snapped, scrubbing his hands on his jeans as he straightened up. He deflated almost as quickly, "Sorry." Delko took a deep breath, "Like I said before, we split up to work each scene. I thought Cal looked a little, umm, tired, so I volunteered to take the one upstairs. She agreed and we got to work. I finished about 70 minutes or so later."

"You sure?" Tripp interrupted. The news conference had lasted nearly 45 minutes. It would have made it a stretch for anyone there to have made it to the Hennessey home in time to attack Calleigh and gotten out again without Eric walking in on them.

Eric shot him a look, "Yeah, I'm sure. I looked at my watch. Anyway, I gathered up my kit and went downstairs. I called to Cal to ask how she was doing but she didn't answer." He looked at Horatio, the anguish plain on his face, "I didn't think anything of it. You know how she gets when she's concentrating on something." Caine nodded and Eric continued, his voice growing softer as the horror hit him again, "I went down the hallway and into the room. I didn't see her at first and then I turned to the right - she was on the floor, up against the wall. God, H, I thought she was dead! When I realized she was still alive, I called 911 and you. Then I tried to stop the bleeding." A part of him was amazed at how cut and dried the words seemed. They did nothing to convey the panic and shock that had struck him like a tidal wave nor his terrified desperation when it seemed Calleigh would bleed to death despite his best efforts.

"You didn't see anyone else?" Tripp's voice brought Eric back to the here and now.

Eric couldn't help looking at him like he was an idiot. What the hell kind of question was that? "No."

"So you didn't hear anything either?" Frank continued, unfazed by Delko's growing hostility. He was feeling a little hostile himself. Someone had screwed up somewhere and Calleigh had paid the price. That didn't cut it in his book.

"No." Delko stared at the detective, his eyebrows lowering dangerously. Up until now, he hadn't had anything tangible to focus his anger on. Tripp was quickly rectifying that situation.

Tripp leaned back, exasperation plain on his face, "Dammit, how the hell did someone get in and out without being seen? The seals are still in place around the other doors and windows. The only way in without disturbing anything is the front door and the patrolman stationed out there swears no one came in that way." He scowled, "Somebody's lying."

Horatio shook his head, "No one came in the front door, Frank."

Frank glared at him, "How can you be sure?"

"Because that would mean that Calleigh let some unknown person walk into the crime scene and then turned her back on him while she continued her investigation. Do you honestly believe that's what happened?"

Tripp eyed the CSI lieutenant. He didn't like it but it had to be said, "She might have if it wasn't a stranger, if it was someone she knew."

"Just a damn minute," Eric half-rose out of his seat, scowling. What the hell was Tripp insinuating?! This was Calleigh - his best friend! At this moment, he would gladly exchange places with her.

Horatio's hand on his arm stopped him, "You know it wasn't Eric, Frank, and it couldn't have been the patrolman either. There were too many people around for him to have left his post or lie about letting anyone else go in. Either Calleigh's attacker was there in the house the entire time or there's a way in that we're not aware of." Neither one sounded all that likely but the only thing that was completely implausible was the thought of Eric attempting to kill Calleigh.

The conversation came to an abrupt halt and all three men stood up when a doctor appeared in the doorway of the waiting room. "You're here for Ms. Duquesne?" he asked, looking at them. When they nodded, he came a little further into the room, "She's on her way up to surgery. We finally got her stabilized, it was touch and go for a while. If you'd like, you can wait up in the surgical wing, it's on the fourth floor. Just follow the signs."

"Is she going to be all right?" Eric asked, the tension obvious.

"Well, it's a good sign that she's made it this far," the doctor hedged.

Horatio stared at the man, "But... ?"

The doctor sighed, "If she has any family in the area, you should get them down here."

He turned and left the room, leaving the three staring after him. Eric slowly sank into a chair. Horatio looked at him and then at Tripp, "I need to make some phone calls, I'll be back."

Wednesday,

12:10 PM

Alexx Woods looked up from her autopsy to see Ryan Wolfe standing just inside the door. She smiled, "Hey, Ryan. Is this one of yours?" He shook his head silently, looking down at the floor. Alexx stared at him, perplexed and suddenly uneasy, "What is it? What's wrong?"

He took a deep breath, "Horatio called. Calleigh was attacked - stabbed - at the Hennessey crime scene. She's in surgery right now at St. Joseph's." His voice dropped and Alexx had to strain to hear him, "He says it doesn't look good."

"Sweet Jesus," Alexx breathed, shocked. "How could that have happened? Wasn't Eric with her?"

Wolfe shrugged helplessly. He knew how he'd feel if this had happened while he was partnered with Calleigh. He couldn't even begin to imagine what Delko was feeling, "Don't know. Calleigh was downstairs while Eric was working the scene upstairs. He didn't hear anything. Horatio told me to assemble a team and get over to the Hennessey place. He wants answers." Ryan wanted them, too. He hadn't been working that long as a CSI but Calleigh had become somewhat of a mentor to him along with Caine. It was hard being the one to replace Tim Speedle and even though most people were discreet, he knew he was still resented. Horatio, obviously, wasn't one of those people and he'd been surprised to find that Calleigh Duquesne was another. Even during that awkward first case when he was investigating her father, she'd treated him as a colleague, a rookie, but a colleague nevertheless.

Wednesday,

1:20 PM

Wolfe stood looking at the blood smear on the wall and the pool of congealing blood on the floor. The detritus and debris from the paramedics that littered the edges told their own story of struggle. Heaven knew he wasn't a violent man by nature but he was beginning to reconsider. If Ryan ever managed to get hold of the guy who'd done this to Calleigh, he'd gladly beat the living daylights out of him - and then hand the creep over to Eric.

The rest of the team was checking the house for signs of entry. It didn't seem possible that Cal's assailant could have been hidden in the Hennesseys' home all this time without being detected. Shaking his head, Ryan pulled the camera up and began shooting. If they were going to nail this bastard, it would start right here. After he finished with the pictures, he pulled out his flashlight and moved in closer. This was going to be hell to sort through. The presence of Eric and the EMTs would have to be filtered out and then the first crime scene separated from the attack on Calleigh. It was going to be a long night at the lab. That was probably a good thing, he needed to keep busy.

Methodically, Ryan went about collecting samples. He almost jumped out of his skin when he heard Horatio's voice behind him, "What have you got?"

"More than I'd like," Ryan sighed as he gestured around the room. "I've got blood transfer everywhere from the paramedics. If Calleigh's attacker left anything, it's probably compromised." He finally looked at Horatio and braced himself. The Lieutenant was a hard man to read, "How is she?"

Caine looked at the floor, "Made it through surgery. They moved her from Recovery right into the ICU. She's listed as critical and still unconscious. They're not allowing visitors just yet. Tripp's arranged for a police guard."

Relieved to hear of Cal's continued survival, Wolfe nodded, "Good idea." He paused, looking over the scene again and glanced back at Horatio, "Do you think the attack had something to do with this case or was someone after her?" He hadn't been here when Hank Kerner and Stuart Otis had escaped but he'd heard the stories. His admiration for his fellow CSIs had ratcheted up a couple of notches after that.

Horatio shook his head, "I don't know, nothing comes to mind. Yelina volunteered to go through Calleigh's old cases and see if anyone's out that might be deranged enough for this." He swept his gaze around the room, "Anything out of place here that wasn't earlier?"

Ryan looked around, "I'm not really sure." He gestured towards the desk, "That's crooked. Everything else in this room is lined up very precisely. This guy must have been OCD, too."

Caine moved towards the desk, "Well then, let's start there." He glanced at the dusting powder that was still scattered over the top and sides, "Did you find any more usable prints?"

"No, just a couple of smudges. It doesn't look like anyone touched it since it was processed the first time," Ryan answered as he moved up alongside Horatio.

Caine nodded absently. It would be too much to hope for that Calleigh's assailant would have been courteous enough to leave a nice clear print. He moved to one side and directed Ryan to the other. "Give me a hand." They each grabbed a corner and pulled, sliding the desk away from the wall.

"This thing weighs a ton," Wolfe remarked, "Think Calleigh was the one who moved it in the first place?"

"Hard to say, the question would be why," Horatio began examining the desk. He moved to look behind it, and then knelt down, "Hello, what's this?"

Wolfe shifted over to take a look, "Tape? Something was attached to the back of the desk? How would Calleigh have known to look?"

Horatio pointed, "See how the tape is loose at the end? I'm guessing if it was an envelope, it must have swung forward enough to be seen." He glanced around the floor, even though he already knew the answer, "You didn't find an envelope, did you?"

Ryan shook his head, "So Cal sees an envelope, pulls the desk away enough to pull it out and our perp picks that exact moment to attack her and grab it? He would have had to been standing over her shoulder and that seems pretty unlikely."

"I know," Horatio murmured, a hint of frustration in his voice. What the hell had happened? He looked around the room, "There must be something we're missing... ." He pulled out his cell phone and punched in a number, "Frank? Horatio. Can you locate the builder for the Hennesseys' home? Mmm-hmmm, yeah... Thanks." He hung up and turned to Wolfe only to have his phone ring again, "Horatio... Alexx? What? Slow down... they did what? All right...yes... I'm on my way."

Wolfe looked at him in alarm, "What's wrong? It's not Calleigh, is it?"

Horatio scowled, "No, it's our intellectually-challenged friends in IAB. They've got Eric. They think he's the one who attacked Calleigh."

"You've got to be kidding," Ryan said, shocked.

"I wish I was," Horatio replied as he headed out of the house.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Just wanted to say thanks to all of you who are reading and enjoying the story. For those of you who have taken the time to review, especially those who have read this in its first incarnation, please know it is very much appreciated. On with the show...

Chapter 3

Wednesday

2:25 PM

By the time he reached headquarters, Horatio was fuming. He marched into Rick Stetler's office and stood there, glaring silently.

"Now cool your jets, Caine," Stetler warned, "And look at the evidence."

"Evidence? What evidence?" Horatio ground out, "We're still processing the scene."

Stetler leaned back. He was going to enjoy this. "Hey, it's your theory. We just followed it to its logical end."

That brought Horatio up short. His eyes narrowed, "What are you talking about?"

"You told Tripp that Duquesne wouldn't have let some stranger walk into her crime scene and then turned her back on him, right?"

Horatio stared at the man in disbelief, "And from that you conclude that Eric attacked her? What possible reason would he have to do something like that? They've been colleagues and friends for years."

Stetler raised an eyebrow, "And nothing more... ?"

"Nothing more," Horatio stated forcefully, trying to stop this from where he now knew it was heading. Leave it to IAB to try and make something tawdry out of Eric and Cal's relationship. Dammit, the two of them hadn't even figured it out yet.

Undeterred, Stetler waved a hand, "Oh c'mon, Caine. Look at the woman. I've seen how she is - that Steel Magnolia act supposedly keeping everybody at arm's length. I'll bet she's had every man in this place falling over himself. So she strings Delko along. He's got that Latino temper. Maybe he finds out she's doing some other guy and he snaps. I've seen this kind of thing before."

Horatio almost visibly stilled and Stetler found himself nervously leaning further back in his chair. When Caine finally spoke, his voice was soft and ominous like the quiet before a storm, "As fascinating as that insight was, Rick, it is not evidence."

Stetler scowled at him, "No? Then how about this? That house was sealed and he was the only other person there! Duquesne was stabbed from behind. The only way in was from the hallway. Either she's the quintessential blonde and was too stupid to realize some stranger had entered the room and walked behind her or it was someone she knew and trusted. You're the one who thinks she's so smart, so that leaves someone she knew. Delko. Besides, he had her blood all over him." He leaned forward again and ticked the points off on his fingers, "Delko has the time. He has the opportunity. He's strong enough to have shoved that knife in as far as he did and as for motive, well... I'll bet a jury would be more than willing to listen to my version of events." He glared at Caine and then shifted uncomfortably when Horatio started to smile, "What?"

"You're forgetting a few things. You don't have a weapon and Eric has an alibi - Calleigh Duquesne." Horatio put both fists on the desk and leaned forward, quietly intense, "I know why you're doing this. It didn't work before and it's not going to work now. You've overstepped the boundaries this time, Rick. Once we catch the real perp, I'm going to come back here and nail your sorry ass to the wall." He pushed off and headed for the door.

Stetler stood up, red-faced with anger, "You arrogant bastard! You'd better come up with that weapon or I'll charge every last one of you with obstruction! And as for Delko's 'alibi'", he smiled nastily, "odds around the stationhouse say she doesn't make it 'til morning."

Horatio didn't acknowledge him and kept on moving, not bothering to shut the door on the way out. He didn't stop until he was in the elevator. Once the doors closed, he looked up at the ceiling and quietly let loose with every filthy word he could think of. Cops were the worst gossips and IAB's ridiculous theory was too juicy not to be flying through the ranks. Goddammit! Calleigh was going to bear the brunt of this. The good-old-boy network would be having a field day. They hated the fact that she had beauty as well as brains and was one of the top experts in her field. It wouldn't take long before Eric was the hapless victim and Calleigh was the manipulative bitch who had finally gotten what she deserved. That Delko temper Rick mentioned was going to go supernova.

He arrived at the floor with the interrogation rooms and looked around. Tripp was talking with the cop on duty and Caine headed over to him. Frank looked up as he approached, "Horatio, man, I'm glad you're here." He turned and started walking, "Eric's down this way. I can't believe IAB likes him for this."

"You told them what I said." Horatio didn't bother elaborating, Frank wasn't stupid.

Tripp gave him a sideways look, "It was in my preliminary report and, for the record, my conclusion was that the assailant was unknown." He shook his head, "I knew Stetler had a hard-on for you guys but I didn't expect him to do this."

"You've heard the reasoning behind grabbing Eric?"

Tripp's face darkened, "Yeah, it's making the rounds, damn them. I've already bounced one guy off a locker for making remarks." He glared at Horatio, "If that knife doesn't kill Calleigh, this whispering campaign might."

They stopped outside the door to the interrogation room. Caine looked at Frank, his eyes hard, "So we need to prove them wrong and catch the guy responsible - and then I'll have Stetler's ass. Eric and Calleigh both have grounds for a civil suit and I doubt the higher-ups will be pleased." He turned and entered the room.

Eric stood up as the two men walked in, "Man, am I glad to see you guys! I can't get anyone to listen to me." He stared intently at Horatio, "You know I'd never do anything to hurt Cal."

Horatio waved him back down, "I know that. Unfortunately, as far as IAB is concerned, you're guilty until proven innocent."

"It's Stetler, isn't it?" Delko asked bitterly. "This is payback. Calleigh made a fool out of him after that perp accused you of dislocating his shoulder during the arrest." His expression turned anxious, "How is she? No one will tell me anything."

"Still with us. They've got her in the ICU - I'm headed there next," Horatio shifted, tilting his head to the side. "Eric, when you found her, did you see any papers or envelopes anywhere nearby?"

Eric frowned slightly, "No, I don't think so, but I wasn't paying much attention to anything but Calleigh. I don't know if I would have noticed the Mona Lisa lying there. Why?"

Horatio looked from Tripp to Eric, "It might be the reason for this attack." He paused for a moment, gazing at the floor before raising his eyes back up, "I need you to hang in there a little longer, Eric. We'll get this straightened out." He gestured to Tripp, "Let's go." They headed out of the building, Horatio didn't say anything until they were out on the street. He looked over at Frank, "Did you find the Hennesseys' builder?"

Tripp ran a hand over his head, "Not yet. It was a small family-owned business. The builder was also the architect. He died of a sudden heart attack right in the middle of the Hennessey project. Things get pretty convoluted after that and I'm still running it down."

"Damn." Horatio stared off into the distance for a moment and then focused on Frank, "Okay, well, do what you can and I'll see what we can come up with. There's something about the house that we're missing."

"Why did you think there was anything near Calliegh?" Tripp wanted to know.

"It looks like there may have been an envelope or papers of some sort, taped to the back of the desk in the study where Hennessey was killed. The desk had been pulled away from the wall a little bit. I think Calleigh found something someone was willing to kill for."

"Oh hell, if it had anything to do with the Hennesseys, then she might be able to identify the murderer," Tripp was looking more alarmed.

"Yes, and he knows it," Horatio climbed into the Hummer. The bastard was probably waiting and watching. Right now the odds weren't very good on whether she'd make it out of the ICU. At least with the police guard, Calleigh was safe from this guy walking in and finishing the job.

Friday,

8:30 AM

Horatio stood in the semi-darkness of the ICU and listened to the whir and beep of a myriad of machines. It'd been nearly 48 hours since someone had shoved a knife into Cal and they were no closer to figuring out how it had happened, much less who might have done it. He'd called Kenwall Duquesne while Calleigh was in surgery. The man had shown up and held it together right up until he walked into the ICU and saw his little girl attached to more machines than he could have imagined possible. He'd fled shortly thereafter. Caine had called in some favors and gotten a couple of off-duty uniforms to get the man to his apartment and keep an eye on him. It would be one less worry for Calleigh when she woke up.

He took a deep breath and expelled it slowly, trying to release the tension in his shoulders. Daniel Hennessey had been at it again, screaming to the press about the incompetence of the police in general and the Miami-Dade crime lab in particular. He'd even had the unmitigated gall to point to Calleigh's attack as evidence of the bungling ineptitude of CSI. Thank god, Eric hadn't been anywhere near the man when he'd spouted off that little gem or there would have been another homicide to deal with.

They were still processing the evidence. Not surprisingly, everyone was a bit off-kilter. Unfortunately, crime wasn't taking a holiday. Being short two CSIs wasn't helping matters, he'd had to call in help from the night shift. No one was complaining. On the contrary, he'd had a number of volunteers. Calleigh was well-liked by her fellow employees and they were all taking this personally. Delko had been remanded into his custody but was on suspension. Eric had been to see Calleigh once, according to Alexx, and was now holed up in his apartment. She was almost as worried about him as she was about Calleigh. As Caine had expected, the rumor and gossip mill was churning. Wolfe had shown up at work yesterday sporting a few bruises. He claimed that he ran into a door. Even Alexx was becoming increasingly terse with officers outside of CSI.

The cadre of detectives they normally worked with weren't much happier than the CSIs. Tripp looked like a bear with a sore tooth. In addition to the Hennessey case, he was still searching for information and employees from the construction firm. Yelina was running herself ragged, eliminating potential suspects from Calleigh's past cases on top of her normal workload. The others helped where they could, including squashing any of the more outrageous rumors about the two CSIs.

Horatio moved quietly over to Calleigh's bedside and stood for a moment, his eyes absently studying the pattern on the tile floor, while he thought about the facts that he knew. If the man who'd attacked Calleigh was also the Hennesseys' murderer, then it was apparent he had no problems killing in cold blood. However, it was also apparent that this man wasn't a killer by trade. If he had been, no doubt he would have slit Calleigh's throat and been done with it. Granted, the wound he had inflicted was serious enough. That old cliche, timing is everything, had been only too true. Eric had, quite literally, arrived just in time. He'd apparently entered the room soon after the attack and his prompt first aid had kept Cal alive long enough for the paramedics to appear. While Horatio would be forever grateful that she hadn't died at the scene, it also meant she was still in danger - a loose end that would have to be dealt with.

He scowled briefly. How the hell had Cal's attacker disappeared so quickly? It was to the point where some of the more irreverent techs were starting to refer to the assailant as 'Waldo'. There was so damned little to go on but Horatio was determined to find the man before he decided to finish what he'd started with the blonde. It was race he couldn't afford to lose - for both Calleigh and Eric's sake as well as his own.

Shaking his head, Caine turned his focus to his wounded CSI and his expression softened. A petite woman, Calleigh seemed lost amid all the medical paraphernalia. Horatio leaned on the side rail. This was the first time they hadn't had her braced on her side. That had to be indicating some sort of progress. He rested a hand on her forehead, carefully brushing away a few stray strands of hair. She was hot. The doctors had assured him that a slight post-op fever was normal, that it was a good sign. Her body was fighting back. Alexx had said much the same thing when he'd asked her about it but had qualified her statement by adding that a continued fever could indicate infection. The worry in her eyes told Caine that that was a very real concern.

Calleigh was still listed as critical although she seemed to be holding her own. They'd taken her off the ventilator late last night and replaced it with a nasal canula. Horatio found it more reassuring than he would have thought. It was unsettling knowing a machine had had to help her breathe. Calleigh had yet to wake up and that was beginning to worry the doctors. According to the forensic evidence at the scene, the abrasion and contusion on her forehead and the subsequent concussion had occurred when her assailant had bounced her head off the wall. The doctors had originally classified that injury as minor. Compared to the knife wound, it was. Now, though, her concussion didn't seem all that minor. The words 'complications' and 'coma' were beginning to creep into the medicos' conversations.

Horatio refused to accept that. Cal was a fighter, had been all her life. People who took her appearance at face value were usually in for a surprise. He'd learned from experience that this particular southern belle came with a core of steel. "Calleigh, sweetheart? It's Horatio. All right, ma'am, I know you can hear me. It's time to wake up. No more lounging around. Eric's blaming himself and you're the only one who can make him see sense." He shifted, resting a hand lightly on her forehead before letting it trail to the side of her face. "The doctors aren't giving very good odds on you right now. They're talking coma. I think it's time to prove them wrong. They all believe you're some fragile little flower. They don't know you like we do. They have no idea how pigheaded and stubborn you can be." The steady tempo of the heart monitor increased and his gaze shifted from her to it in surprise. He looked back down at her, "I knew you were listening. Okay, here's the thing... our mutual friend, Stetler, has decided that it must have been Eric who attacked you. That bastard's counting on you to die without waking so you won't mess up his pet theory." The tempo of the heart monitor picked up another notch.

Horatio leaned in, grasping her hand, his voice intense, "That's it, Calleigh, fight back. Stetler's gone too far. Nobody does this to my team. You and Eric both deserve to be there when I pin his ears back. C'mon, Duquesne, open your eyes."

He froze for a moment when he felt her hand briefly tighten in his, "Cal? Calleigh?" Horatio barely registered the arrival of a doctor and nurse. His focus was solely on the woman in front of him. He held his breath when he thought he saw an eyelid flicker. "Keep going Cal, you're almost there."

Her hand gripped his just before her eyes flew open. Then she started flailing. Surprised, Horatio caught a clout across the head before he managed to latch onto her other wrist. "Calleigh! Stop!" She didn't have a lot of strength and she didn't need to be expending it this way. He found himself leaning halfway across the bed trying to keep her from hurting herself. He heard the doctor order a sedative at the same time he heard Frank Tripp say, 'What the hell... ?"

"No, dammit! No sedative!" Horatio snapped, "Frank! Help me!" Tripp moved to the opposite side of the bed as Horatio concentrated on the still-struggling Calleigh. Her eyes were open but he didn't think she was registering what she was seeing. "Calleigh! Take it easy! You'll hurt yourself! It's okay, you're safe, he's gone!"

Her struggles abruptly ceased and she stared at him with wide eyes, apparently seeing him for the first time. He glanced up and nodded to Tripp, who released his hold on her. Horatio smiled down at her, "Welcome back."

He frowned when she grimaced, her eyes closing in obvious pain. Caine looked over at the scowling physician, "Doctor..."

"Finally," the doctor snapped, angry at being shoved aside earlier. "You can wait outside."

Horatio put his hands on his hips, sliding into a protective stance without conscious thought, "No. As of this moment, Ms. Duquesne isn't left alone with anyone unless a police officer is present. I'll need her moved to a private room as soon as possible." On the other side of the bed, Tripp folded his arms and scowled. Each man was intimidating in his own way.

The doctor looked from one to the other. "Fine," he blustered, gesturing for the nurse, "At least move away from the bed." Horatio nodded to Tripp who stepped back against the wall. Caine went no further than the foot of the bed. He kept his face impassive as they carefully rolled Cal up on her side and moved the gown aside to reveal the bandaging on her back. Focusing on the wound, Horatio noted with dismay that it was bleeding again. Damn!

He waited while they replaced the dressing and let her lay back down. Small beads of sweat dotted her forehead and she still had her eyes squeezed shut, her breathing coming in short, shallow bursts. Horatio moved back up to the side of the bed and leaned down, "Calleigh?" Her eyes slowly opened and she looked over at him. "Do you think you can answer a question?" She nodded her head the merest fraction of an inch and he gave her a smile. Calleigh swallowed and coughed, her features contorting from the pain that it caused.

Horatio poured a little water into the glass by her bed and held the straw for her while she sipped, "Easy does it, ma'am."

Tripp walked back to the other side of the bed and gave her a half-smile, "About time, Duquesne. I was afraid you were going to miss all the fun."

The doctor was still scowling, "She shouldn't be talking, she should be resting." He threw up his hands, "As if that means anything to either of you." He turned and stalked out.

Tripp looked over at Horatio, "You've annoyed the doctor."

Caine gave a small smile, "So it would appear." He glanced at Tripp and then looked down at Calleigh, "One question for the record, Calleigh, and then you can rest. Did Eric Delko attack you?"

Calleigh managed a look of shock. "No!" she whispered emphatically and winced.

Horatio nodded to Tripp, "And there you have it." He looked back down at the petite blonde, putting a hand gently on her shoulder, "Go ahead and sleep, Calleigh. We'll be back later to talk to you. Okay?" She barely nodded, her eyes already closing.

He watched for a few seconds and then gestured to Tripp. The two men quietly left the ICU. Outside the door, Horatio turned to the uniformed officer, "Once she's moved, I want you inside the room." He looked at Tripp, "We'll need another uniform down here. I'm guessing Calleigh can identify her attacker and he's probably tied in with the Hennessey murders. This guy doesn't get another shot at her."

"Okay, Horatio," Tripp agreed, "I'll stay and keep an eye on things until the other patrolman gets here. We'll keep her safe."

"Thanks, Frank," Horatio left the hospital feeling considerably lighter than when he'd walked in. Calleigh was awake and on the road to recovery. He sobered a little, they still had to find her assailant and figure out how he'd managed to sneak up on her. He'd check with Yelina but his gut feeling was that Cal's assailant and the Hennesseys' murderer were one and the same. But first, he'd let Delko and the rest of the team know that Calleigh had turned the corner.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Once again, thank you to all who are enjoying this story. As ladyd10 pointed out, E/C is not really my ship so this has been an interesting exercise. I usually try to stay within arm's reach of canon when I'm writing and I'm not adamantly opposed to Calleigh and Eric - merely lukewarm. Now, had show canon gone towards say... Stetler and Calleigh, then I'd be so AU they'd have to invent another category for it. ;-)

Enough babbling - here's the next chapter.

Chapter 4

Friday,

10:25 AM

Tripp pulled a chair up beside the bed and settled in, loosening his tie. He couldn't fault the hospital on their efficiency. It hadn't taken too long for them to transfer Calleigh to a private room. Apparently, they had been about ready to release her from the ICU anyway. The attending physician had upped her pain meds before the move and she'd been pretty well out of it. He propped his elbow on the chair arm and rested his chin, watching her sleep. He liked the feisty little ballistics expert and respected her abilities. These last few days had been hell on everyone associated with CSI. Adding to the stress was the high profile murder of the Hennesseys, as well as that son of a bitch from IAB. Tripp didn't want to be the one to apprise Calleigh of the crackpot theory that was trashing her reputation.

Stetler was a clever bastard, he'd give him that. There was just enough truth to make the entire sordid little story plausible. Eric and Calleigh had known each other for years and were close. In fact, the two were so close that occasionally Tripp thought they'd spontaneously combust when they worked a scene together. In a way, it supported his theory that they hadn't taken that final plunge. No way could they maintain that kind of tension if they were already dating. Frank shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position. If there was any solace to be found, he figured it would be when Calleigh finally got hold of Stetler. Women, especially southern women, were damn dangerous when they were seriously pissed. He had the scars to prove it.

Twenty minutes later, Frank was quietly giving instructions to Officer Mendoza when an orderly opened the door and walked in. He looked surprised to see a policeman inside the room. Tripp stared at him, "What do you want?"

The orderly was silent for a second and then said, "Sorry, I must have the wrong room." He held out a mop, "I was told there was a clean-up in Room 342."

"This is Room 324," Tripp scowled slightly.

"It is?" The orderly craned his neck around to look at the door number, "Oh, it is. Sorry, I've only been here a week. I'm still getting lost." He started backing out as Tripp advanced, "Well, I'd better find 342 or the floor nurse will start screaming at me." He turned and took off as the detective reached the door. Frank watched him hurry down the corridor and then turned to the other police officer, "Why'd you let him in, Benning?"

Benning shrugged, "He works here. He had proper ID. I figured he had stuff to do."

Tripp poked a finger in his chest, "Don't figure, dammit. You've got that list of approved visitors for a reason, use it."

"Yeah, sure," Benning swallowed his annoyance. Damn detectives thought they were so much smarter than everybody else. The CSI geeks were even worse. He couldn't believe he'd gotten stuck on this damn protection detail. That fat bastard, Sgt. Nolan, must have really been ticked about that incident with the whore last week. Nolan was probably laughing his silly ass off back at the station, knowing that he'd stuck Benning with guarding some slut. He'd heard the story about the 'attack'. It was funny as hell that the oh-so-superior CSI department had been caught in a dirty little lovers' triangle.

Benning watched Tripp walk off. This detail was a waste and everybody knew it. Not that he was stupid enough to say anything in front of the big man. Word had quickly made the rounds that the detective had absolutely zero tolerance for anybody's comments. He looked up and down the hallway again. This was going to be boring as hell. That didn't even take into account the wear and tear on his feet and back. Maybe he could wheedle a chair from one of the nurses. He glanced back at the door with a small grunt of disgust. It figured that Mendoza would get the easy job. Benning doubted he'd be able to wrangle a trade of posts. Life was goddamn unfair.

Friday,

2:45 PM

Calleigh drifted up from the depths, she could hear voices in the distance. She almost felt like she was floating. Where was she? Part of her was curious; the other part wanted to return to the darkness. She started to sink back down but the voices kept intruding. There were two, one higher than the other. A man and a woman? They seemed familiar and she felt she should know who they were but that sort of concentration was beyond her at the moment. They were arguing, the volume steadily escalating. What had her father done this time? No... that wasn't right. Her parents were divorced. Who were these people?

Slowly, she struggled towards awareness. After what seemed like an eternity, Calleigh managed to drag her eyes open. The bright light sent stabs of pain through her head, making her close her eyes tightly and moan. Immediately the argument broke off and the woman's voice moved closer to the bed.

"Calleigh? Calleigh, honey, can you hear me?"

Calleigh tried to focus on the voice. Anything was better than the throbbing pain that seemed to be spreading from her head to the rest of her body. The voice was warm and soothing. A name went with the voice, it was hovering just out of reach. She tried opening her eyes just a fraction and winced again as the light assailed them.

"Just a minute, sweetie."

The room became noticeably dimmer and Calleigh gave a quiet sigh of relief. Forcing her eyes open yet again, it took several long moments before things came into focus. She stared up at the woman by the bed and finally gave a slight smile, "Alexx."

Her voice came out in a painful rasp. Alexx frowned and turned away from the bed, returning in a few seconds with a glass and straw, "Just a little, Calleigh." She let the blonde have several small swallows before taking the glass away, "That's probably enough for now. You can have more in a bit." Alexx smiled down at her friend, "How are you feeling? You had us all worried, you know."

"Feel like the morning after." Calleigh said slowly, trying to ease the discomfort. The water had helped. She let her eyes drift around the room, noting with surprise the uniformed policeman sitting near the door. Her gaze swept past another man standing on the far side of the room before fastening once again on Alexx, "What happened?"

Alexx's brow furrowed, "You don't remember?"

Calleigh started to shake her head and grimaced. She had the mother of all headaches, even her eyebrows hurt. She looked up at Alexx, "All a blur... accident?"

Alexx looked distinctly uncomfortable. Before she could say anything, the man strode up to the other side of the bed, "Are you saying you don't remember being attacked?"

"What?" Calleigh looked from him to Alexx in confusion, "Who... ?"

"I'm not going to tell you again, Sergeant. You are not supposed to be in here until the doctor clears it." Alexx's voice was icy with contempt, something Calleigh hadn't heard very often. "Get out or I'll have Officer Stibbing throw you out."

The sergeant drew himself up, "And I'm telling you, Dr. Woods, this is an official IA investigation and I'll go wherever I damn well please to get the answers I need."

Alarmed now, Calleigh struggled to push herself upright, keeping her jaws clamped against the sharp pain that seemed to be coursing through every nerve ending. Alexx reacted immediately, easing her back down on the bed, "Stop that, you're going to open up the stitches." She glared once more at the IAB sergeant, "Get out of here or I will file a formal complaint that you're needlessly endangering this woman's life."

Sergeant Voss glared back at elegantly beautiful black woman and tried to curb his irritation, reminding himself that the blonde was technically the victim, not the accused. Stetler was riding everyone hard to get this case wrapped up. He jabbed a finger at Alexx, "I need to speak with Duquesne NOW. You heard her, she just recanted her earlier statement."

Alexx awarded him the briefest of looks while keeping most of her attention on Calleigh, "Really? That's not what I heard."

His eyes widened and then narrowed, "What are you trying to pull? She just said she doesn't remember."

The ME eyed him with what looked like pity for his denseness, "That's exactly what she said." She pointed at the door, "Get out. Now."

Voss bristled, "You don't have the authority to make me do anything."

"I do."

The sergeant turned to see Lt. Caine standing in the doorway. Hands on his hips, he silently oozed menace as he stared at Voss. Without another word, Horatio stepped to the side, his body language clearly telling the IAB officer to get out while the getting was good.

Voss didn't even bother trying to bluster, he wasn't a fool. Straightening his shoulders, he was almost level with Horatio when an arm came out, blocking his path. He turned his head and looked at Caine.

Horatio glared at him, "Do NOT make this mistake again, Sergeant."

Even though the words were quietly spoken, Voss couldn't help the slight shiver that crept down his spine. The face was calm but those eyes were coldly furious. He found himself nodding just to be free from the other man's gaze. Once he was out in the hallway, he gave himself a shake and began to stride purposefully down the corridor. He'd let Stetler handle it from here. If he wanted the CSIs that badly, he could confront Lt. Horatio Caine himself.

Horatio watched until the IAB officer was halfway down the corridor before turning back into the room. Alexx watched with amusement as his entire demeanor changed. He walked up to the side of the bed and smiled down at Calleigh, "Hello."

Doing her best to ignore the pounding in her head, Calleigh summoned up the effort to smile in return, "Hey."

Resting his hands on the side rail, Horatio shot a quick glance at Alexx before looking back down at his ballistics expert, "It's good to see you awake. How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine, Horatio." Her stock answer was out of her mouth before she could censor it. It earned her a small amused smile from Caine and an incredulous snort from Alexx.

The ME folded her arms and rocked back on one heel, "Honey, the next time I come back here, it will be with a dictionary and we will look up the definition of 'fine'."

"Alexx... " Calleigh began plaintively. She glanced over at Horatio for help and saw him ducking his head to hide his widening grin. "Oh sure, gang up on me." Some of the anxiety she'd been feeling since she woke up eased a bit taking some of the pain with it. She hadn't realized how tense she'd been with the confrontation between Alexx and the IA officer. She frowned slightly, what had he been doing here in the first place? She looked from Horatio to Alexx and then back again. Both of them had stopped smiling as they watched her make the connection. "What happened?" Another tidbit of memory surfaced and her eyes widened slightly, "Where's Eric? Is he okay?"

"He's fine. What's the last thing you remember?" Horatio kept his tone quiet and soothing. He didn't need Alexx's warning glance to know that he needed to be cautious.

Calleigh stared silently at Horatio while she considered his question. It was harder than she anticipated. Until that moment, she hadn't realized there were such gaping holes in her memory. Finally she sighed - carefully, having also learned that any sort of deep breath was going to hurt like hell. "I remember getting the call to go to a double homicide. Eric drove."

She watched as Horatio tilted his head down and to the side, a posture he usually adopted when he thought he was about to deliver unwelcome news. "Do you remember going back for a second look?"

Calleigh frowned in concentration, willing something... anything to rise up out of the murk. It had to be important or Horatio wouldn't be pushing for an answer. God, this was frustrating. Calleigh hated not being on top of her game. She was used to giving 110% all the time. In her male-dominated line of work, it was a necessary evil. Bad enough to be found lacking, it was even worse in front of Horatio. Logically, she realized this wasn't her fault and that Horatio knew it but still... She saw his eyebrow start to go up and suddenly realized she hadn't answered his question. Inadvertently, Calleigh inhaled more deeply than she intended and wound up closing her eyes tightly against the pain. What the hell had happened to her? After a moment, she heard Horatio's quiet voice, "Never mind, Cal, don't worry about it."

She forced open her eyes and regarded him with exasperation, "Don't worry about it?! I'm in a hospital. I feel like half of downtown Miami landed on me and I don't know how I got here!" Calleigh held herself tightly and waited for the latest spasm of pain to pass. Vehemence had not been a good idea. She shot a look at Alexx and then focused on Horatio again, moderating her tone and speaking more quietly, "I'm not going to be able to stop worrying until somebody tells me what's going on,"

Alexx rested a gentle hand on Calleigh's forehead, "Sweetie, we don't want to upset you. I know you just woke up but you still need time to rest and recover."

Calleigh looked up at her friend, "Then tell me why IAB was here." When Alexx hesitated, little fingers of dread began creeping in. A second look? Had she been driving? Oh god, had she wrecked the Hummer? Why wasn't Eric here? Why was there a uniform in her room? She steeled herself and looked over at Horatio, "Am I under arrest?"

He gave her a startled look, "No, of course not."

"Then why... ," her eyes widened as the next most obvious reason occurred to her, "Why do I need to be protected?"

"It's a precaution," Horatio did his best to seem reassuring. This latest development was unexpected. He'd have to talk to Alexx later and find out if this amnesia might be permanent. He was aware that trauma could bring this sort of thing on but it was damned awkward to be happening now. Mentally, he was kicking himself. When she'd first regained consciousness and he'd asked about Delko, he hadn't considered the context. Calleigh had probably been speaking from the conviction that Eric would never hurt her. "Do you remember anything after getting the call?"

Calleigh stared up at him, her brow furrowed. It was a mark of his unsettledness that he couldn't tell if she was concentrating or in pain. Probably both, he thought, as he waited patiently for her answer. Finally, Calleigh dropped her eyes, "I... no, there's nothing. I'm sorry, Horatio."

He turned his head to the side with a small smile, "No worries, ma'am. I know you're trying."

Horatio glanced over at Alexx, giving her an almost imperceptible tilt of the head. She nodded and rubbed Calleigh's shoulder lightly, "Honey, we're going to go now and let you rest. I'll stop by in the morning. Do you need anything?"

"No thank you." Calleigh spoke quietly, her disappointment evident.

They waited until her eyes closed and then silently made their way to the door. Horatio stopped by the policeman, "Let the other shifts know. No one from IAB is to come in here until her doctor clears it. Those are my orders. If someone gives you a hard time, have them see me. Is that clear?" The patrolman nodded wordlessly. "Good." He opened the door and held it for Alexx to precede him into the hallway.

Alexx waited while he repeated his instructions to the guard outside the door and then the two of them headed down the corridor. The ME waited patiently for the question she knew he was going to ask. He didn't disappoint her, "Alexx? Will she be able to remember?"

She shook her head, "It's impossible to say. With the sort of head trauma Calleigh's been through, this isn't uncommon." Alexx looked at him, "It's not like she's trying to forget anything. She can't help that this is happening."

"I know," Horatio stared down at his feet while he thought. Finally he looked over at her, "I think it's time to get everyone together and figure out where we stand."

Alexx raised an eyebrow, "Eric, too?"

Horatio slid on his sunglasses as they walked outside, "Most definitely."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Friday,

4:25 PM

Horato looked around the room at the assembled group, lingering a moment on Eric. While everyone was understandably concerned about Calleigh, both he and Alexx were aware that Delko was also a victim. Doubly so, really. Horatio knew Eric was blaming himself for not protecting Calleigh. Having to face accusations of being her attacker had to hurt even more. It had taken Alexx to pry him out of his apartment and get him down here. Caine suspected she was also responsible for Delko's freshly-scrubbed appearance. He almost smiled thinking of the motherly bullying his ME had probably applied.

"You've talked to Calleigh?" Frank Tripp spoke up from his spot by the door. Both he and Yelina had been included in this impromptu council of war.

"Yes," Horatio glanced around the room, "Unfortunately, the last thing she remembers is getting the initial call for Hennessey murders."

"Damn."

From the looks on the others' faces, Frank was verbalizing what they were all feeling. Horatio leaned back against the counter, "There's no telling whether or not she'll remember so we need to see what the evidence tells us."

Horatio took a moment to meet everyone's gaze, "Let's start at the beginning. Darian and Constance Hennessey were shot to death in their home at approximately 8:30 Sunday night. Both were killed at close range but in widely separate locations. No one heard any shots, including, apparently, either of the Hennesseys. Double striations on the slugs we've recovered tell us a silencer was used which suggests the perp knew the Hennesseys were home. As far as we can tell, nothing was removed from the house. Cash, jewelry, electronic equipment, art - all accounted for so this wasn't a robbery that got out of hand. According to friends and colleagues, their marriage was solid. They were personable, well-liked and generous with their time and their money. His business manager confirmed that Darian Hennessey was about to run for public office on the Republican ticket as a conservative. There doesn't seem to be any controversy there. At the moment, we have a double murder with no obvious motive."

He looked around the room, "I believe that the Hennessey murders and the attack on Calleigh are the work of one person." Caine nodded towards Ryan, "Something was taped to the back of Mr. Hennessey's desk and it seems that Cal found it. Whatever it was, it was valuable enough to cause the death of the Hennesseys and, very nearly, Calleigh's as well." Horatio folded his arms, "What do we know about our gunman?"

Ryan glanced around and then spoke when it became obvious that Delko wouldn't, "Judging by the angle of shots that were fired, the assailant was at least 6 feet tall. We've found several light brown hairs that could belong to our gunman. DNA shows that they come from a male but we haven't gotten any hits on the system. The weapon was a 9mm which has yet to be recovered."

"Calleigh's attacker was also tall, strong and most likely, male," Alexx added calmly. She saw the inquiry on Yelina's face and elaborated, "Judging from the angle of the stab wound and the depth. This guy nearly shoved that knife all the way in. He left an impression of part of the hilt on Calleigh's skin."

"Couldn't a woman have done that as well?" Tripp decided to play Devil's Advocate. It could make a certain amount of sense. Calleigh might have let her guard down with a woman.

The ME raised an eyebrow, "It's possible but I doubt it. Stabbing in is easy enough with sufficient momentum, it's getting it out again that takes some strength."

"Have we identified the type of knife used?" Horatio directed his question primarily at Ryan.

The young man hesitated a moment, shooting a quick look at Eric before glancing away, "Umm... it was single-edged, about 5" long with an oval hilt." He paused again and then said hurriedly, "It could be a hunting knife but I haven't isolated a particular model yet. Calleigh's the expert in these things."

There was an awkward silence. Sighing inwardly, Horatio shared a look with Alexx. Eric had fallen into a defensive position, scowling at the floor with his arms folded tightly. Tripp glanced around and then spoke up, "I was able to track down more about the Hennesseys' home. Once the original guy died, the house was completed by another firm but the plans on file with the county don't jibe with the actual floor plans. The square footage is the same, but it's arranged differently. Nobody bothered updating the records and, get this, the contractor disappeared right after finishing the project. It seems that Immigration and Darian Hennessey were looking for him. His lousy record keeping was hiding the fact he was skimming off the top. He was using illegals, paying them less than the contract called for and pocketing the rest. He's in the wind, probably in another state under another name by now."

"Charming," Alexx commented dryly.

"So we have a house that isn't what it seems." Caine stared at the photos and sketches of the various rooms of the Hennessey home. He frowned slightly and carefully looked again.

"Horatio?" Yelina voiced the question after glancing at the others.

"Just a moment, please." Caine continued to study the sketches as an idea percolated and then turned to Ryan, "Do you have the measurements taken of the exterior of the house?"

Wolfe blinked and then turned towards a stack of files, "Yeah, sure... " He rummaged through the various folders and then pulled out several sheets of paper, "Here they are."

He handed them over and Horatio spread them out on the table. The rest of the group drifted in for a better look. "What did you see?" Tripp asked, looking keenly at the Lieutenant.

"A disparity," Horatio continued studying the figures and then straightened up, tapping a finger on one page. "Ladies and gentlemen, there is a thirty-two square foot discrepancy between the exterior and interior measurements... and it's in the study."

"A panic room?" Eric looked up. Despite being freshly shaved, he still looked haggard. Seeing Calleigh in the ICU, not knowing if she'd pull through had terrified him to the point where he'd barely made it to the men's room before he'd tossed his lunch. It was all his fault. He never should have left her alone. He'd fled back to his apartment where the guilt had practically paralyzed him. He couldn't eat, couldn't sleep, wouldn't answer the phone in case it was THAT call. It was just as well he'd been suspended because he sure as hell couldn't work either. Alexx had finally made the landlord open his door, waiting for the man to leave before letting loose with both barrels. Somewhere in her tirade, he'd caught the phrase 'recovering' and suddenly, he could breathe again. Now he had a different focus - catching the bastard who'd hurt his Calleigh.

"It's more like a closet," Tripp snorted.

"But still a hiding place," Alexx pointed out. She looked at Horatio, "So the Hennesseys' murderer could have been there all along."

"That doesn't make sense," Yelina frowned. "He hangs around the crime scene for close to twelve hours until the maid shows and then hides until Calleigh and Eric come back for a second look? Why?"

Horatio put his hands on his hips as he studied the measurements again, "Because he was looking for something and he couldn't find it."

Ryan's eyes widened, "The envelope behind the desk." Horatio nodded in agreement.

"But nothing in the house was disturbed," Eric finally joined in the discussion, leaning over to get a better look at the photographs.

"He didn't want anyone to know he was searching." Horatio paused in thought and then looked at Tripp, "Did the Hennesseys have a security system?"

Frank nodded, "State of the art. Keypad entry for the doors and garage, sensors for the other points of entry as well as on the driveway and a direct line to the police. It never sounded and no one tampered with it."

Eric's eyes narrowed, "What about cameras?" For the life of him, he couldn't remember seeing any in the house. From the look on Ryan's face, he was thinking the same thing.

The detective turned towards the young Cuban and shook his head, "According to the security company rep, they're just around the outside of the house, nothing inside. Darian Hennessey apparently didn't like the idea of being watched in his own home."

Horatio's chin dropped down to his chest while he thought. Finally he looked up, "That doesn't sound right. If you've got a panic room, you'd have to have some way of knowing when it was safe to come out."

Tripp nodded, "You've got a point." He scowled, "Which means the rep lied to me. The Hennesseys are dead. Why the hell bother?"

"I don't know but I think we should find out. In any case, it would explain how someone managed to ambush Calleigh and disappear before Eric saw them." Horatio turned his gaze to Delko, "Feel like proving my theory?"

Eric's expression was a curious mixture of relief and anger, "Hell, yes. Now?"

"Now." Horatio looked around at the remainder of the group, "Why don't the rest of you head home? Hopefully, we'll have something to work with on Monday."

Ryan glanced at the others before focusing on Horatio, "I'll be in tomorrow morning if that's okay. I'd rather get this guy sooner than later."

Frank shrugged, "I'll be here. Beats sitting around yelling at the TV. Marlins suck this year."

Horatio ducked his head slightly as he smiled, "Thank you." He looked back up at Eric, "Let's go."

Friday,

6:15 p.m.

Eric followed Horatio into the study. This was the first time he'd been back to the scene of the attack on Cal. He couldn't help looking at the place where he'd found her. The dried bloodstain was still there, taunting him. Why the hell had he suggested splitting up? If only he'd stayed with her...

Delko jumped when a hand touched him lightly on the shoulder. Horatio gave him a sympathetic look, "This wasn't your fault. Go see her tomorrow. It'll do you both some good." Eric stared at him silently for a few moments and then nodded. Caine smiled slightly, "Good. Now let's catch this bastard."

While the Lieutenant headed for the far wall, Delko opened up the case that contained the SpyFinder. Turning it on, he began scanning the room. Methodically, he swept the walls and then suddenly froze, "H! I've got one!"

Horatio turned away from his examination of the floor-to-ceiling bookcases and walked over to where Delko was standing, "Where?"

Eric pointed up towards the crown moulding near the corner, "There."

"Very good." Horatio went to stand under the camera location and turned back to look into the room. He swung his arm in an arc, "Okay, assuming it's the same as most security cameras, it would cover about this much of the room."

Eric had the Spyfinder up and moving, "Meaning for full coverage, there should be at least two more cameras." In short order, they had located and photographed the other cameras. They had been skillfully blended into the interior design making them nearly impossible to spot. The younger man looked over at Caine, "Should we check the rest of the house?"

Horatio thought for a moment, "No, we'll wait on that." He turned back to the far wall, "There's a hidden room here and we need to find the door."

The two men moved to the bookcases and began their examination. Thirty minutes later, Eric sighed in frustration, "Finding these things are a lot easier in the movies."

Caine chuckled as he continued to run his hands along the woodwork, "You want to lean on a wall and then suddenly disappear while my back is turned?"

Eric grinned in return, surprised at his Lieutenant's mood. Horatio tended to be serious most of the time, "Sure, why not? Or I could accidentally hit a wall sconce."

"Or a fireplace andiron," Horatio tried to recall what other devices had been used in those old movies.

Delko felt the back of the bookcase behind a small model of a sailing ship, stopped and then smiled, "Or I could throw a switch."

Horatio turned towards Eric in surprise and then smiled, too, "Well, give it a try. Let's see what happens."

"Right. Here goes nothing." Eric flipped the switch and both men stepped back as the bookcase swung silently out. Behind it was an entryway leading down a short flight of stairs. Just past the landing stood a metal door. Both CSIs pulled out their flashlights and began scanning the area. Eric suddenly crouched down, "H, I've got something." He angled the light and then looked up at his Lieutenant, "Looks like blood."

Horatio turned back to the kits and returned with the camera and swabs. He handed the camera to Eric and waited while the younger man took his pictures before kneeling down to collect a sample. "Directional. Could have dripped off the knife."

Eric carefully swept his light across the floor, "I don't see anything else." He glanced over at Horatio, "It looks like he cleaned up after himself, so how did he miss something this obvious?"

Horatio gestured towards the bookcase entry, "Because it wasn't. He closed the bookcase and covered up the blood." He stood up and walked to the steps, "Let's see if he left anything else." He walked down the stairs and examined the door. There wasn't a handle but there was a scanner screen and keypad recessed into the wall.

Eric joined him, "Man, this looks like something out of a sci-fi movie."

"A biometric entry system... so our Mr. Hennessey was choosy about who was eligible for safety," Horatio mused as he studied the pad. "Obviously there was someone on the list that Mr. Hennessey didn't know about. The question is, did Mrs. Hennessey?"

"It's possible that neither of them knew."

"True, true," Horatio shifted his stance slightly and stared at the floor, "Whoever set up this program would also know how to alter it." He looked back up at Eric, "We'll need to track down which companies are capable of something like this."

Eric eyed the arrangement. "There might be prints, let me get my kit." He bounded up the steps and returned quickly. Pulling out the brush, he carefully dusted the keypad and screen. A moment later, he scowled, "This guy's careful, looks like everything's been wiped."

"Smart, too. He figured we'd find this eventually." Horatio paused thoughtfully, "So we're back to finding out who put this system in."

Eric took a closer look at the keypad and then pulled a small screwdriver out of his pocket, "No identifying marks on the outside but there might be something on the underside."

Horatio nodded and moved to the side so that he could watch Eric as well as the open doorway. He doubted if their murderer would try to sneak back into the house but it was better to be careful. A few minutes later, he watched as Eric carefully lifted the frame off the keypad and began his inspection. "Find something?" he asked when Delko grunted softly.

Eric looked over at Caine, "No company names but the serial number is here. We can probably get a list of distributors and licensed installers from the manufacturer."

"That will have to wait until morning, I'm afraid." Horatio stared at the door in frustration. "There has to be some sort of safety bypass built into this as well. Once we find the installer, we should be able to get inside. In the meantime... " He stepped up to the door and wedged a small sliver of paper into the seam between the door frame and the door, close to the floor. It wasn't noticeable unless you happened to be looking for it.

Eric raised an eyebrow, "You think this guy is coming back? He's got what he wants."

"We think he does," Horatio countered as his expression became grim, "As far as he knows this is still a safe hideaway and we know he's got at least one loose end to take care of."

"Calleigh." Delko's tone turned flat as his gaze dropped to the floor.

"He won't get to her again," Horatio's tone brooked no arguments. He looked at the door again and then at Eric, "Let's get everything back the way it was and get out of here. If he is coming back, I'd rather he didn't know we were on to him just yet." Delko nodded and silently began reattaching the keypad frame. Fifteen minutes later, the two men were on their way back to Headquarters.

After reaching CSI and pulling into a parking spot, Horatio looked over at Eric, "Go on home. Visiting hours start at 9:00."

Eric ducked his head a little and smiled, "Okay, thanks H." Getting out, he headed for his car. Horatio watched until Delko had driven out of the parking lot before getting out himself and striding into the building. Once he'd dropped off their findings for the night shift to get started on, he'd catch up on some long overdue paperwork. He knew he wouldn't be able to sleep until he'd figured this out.

Friday,

9:48 p.m.

Eric moved quietly towards the corridor that led to Calleigh's room. The morning was too far away. He'd just pop in for a quick check on her. The hospital was silent for the most part, the normal chaos of the day replaced by the now audible hum of various machinery. His appearance at the nurses' station startled the woman on duty. She frowned and spoke softly, "I'm sorry, visiting hours are over. You'll have to come back tomorrow."

Eric pulled out his ID, "I'm CSI Eric Delko. I just got off shift. Calleigh Duquesne is my partner. I wanted to see how she is and check in with her security." He waited patiently while the nurse went through the charts, selected one and opened it up to begin reading.

After a few moments, she looked up at the young man with a slight frown, "I don't know if I can let you in. I'm afraid she's not having a good night. Her temperature's up."

Delko looked at her with dismay, "Infection?" Alexx had told him of the possible problems Calleigh could face during her recovery.

The nurse gave him an apologetic shrug, "It's not uncommon with this type of wound, but we've caught it early."

"I just need to see her." Eric scrubbed at the back of his neck, "Please. I promise I'll be quiet." It hadn't truly occurred to him that Cal could be taking a turn for the worse. The reality scared the hell out of him. He tried to reassure himself that the doctors seemed to be on top of it.

The woman stared at him for a few seconds and then finally nodded. Her brother was a cop up in Tampa. His partner was practically a member of the family, "Try to be as brief as possible. She really shouldn't be disturbed."

"Yes, ma'am," Eric pivoted and headed swiftly up the corridor to Calleigh's room, afraid the nurse would suddenly change her mind.

The policeman in the hallway got up from his chair as he saw Eric approach. He eyed Delko warily until he saw the shield on his belt. The officer relaxed slightly although his hand still rested on his service weapon, "I'll need to see some ID."

Eric fished his credentials out once more. He felt a bit better knowing Calleigh's security was being vigilant. He glanced up and down the corridor, "Any problems?"

The man shook his head as he compared the ID to Eric, "Nah, quiet as a church. Are you working this case?"

Eric nodded, "Yeah, we've got some solid leads." He took a deep breath, "I don't know if Det. Tripp told you, but CSI Duquesne is only person still living who can identify this man and he knows it. If he realizes we're getting close, he might try something drastic."

The officer snorted slightly, "Not on my watch, he won't." He jerked a thumb at the door, "You're on the list of approved visitors. You wanna go see her?"

Eric nodded, "Who's on duty inside?"

"Officer Ferrara."

Delko nodded again and then tapped quietly on the door before stepping carefully inside. The room was dim and it took him a moment to spot the police officer. She was standing in the shadows, watching him intently, her hand resting lightly on her sidearm. Eric turned to face her, holding his ID up, "Officer Ferrara? I'm CSI Eric Delko. CSI Duquesne is my partner." He waited quietly while she scanned his credentials.

"Sorry about that. I just like to be sure," Ferrara spoke softly.

Eric shook his head, "Don't be, I feel better knowing you're keeping an eye out." He couldn't help glancing towards the bed and its lone occupant.

"She's been awake off and on since I came on duty," Ferrara offered, following his gaze. She'd heard the rumors floating around but hadn't put any stock in them. Ferrara would bet a week's salary that IAB had screwed up yet again. In support of her belief was Delko's name on the very short list of approved visitors. She'd heard enough about Lt. Caine to know that his judgement would be sound. Since he obviously didn't consider Delko a threat then neither would she. At any rate, she'd learned to trust her instincts over the years and they were also telling her that this man was trustworthy. "I heard the Doctor say something about her fever being higher."

Eric nodded, "The nurse warned me." His gaze drifted towards Calleigh again.

Ferrara watched him and revised her opinion slightly. She'd seen that expression of longing before. These two might not be together yet but it probably wouldn't be much longer if this guy had any say in the matter. She hesitated, wondering if she was about to get herself into trouble. What was the saying? 'No good deed goes unpunished.' "Would you like a few minutes? I could go refill my coffee thermos." The smile that broke out on the CSI's face was reward enough. Damn but she was a sap for romance.

"Thank you." He waited while she gathered her thermos and walked out the door before moving over to Calleigh's bedside. She looked like she was in a restless sleep. Carefully, he leaned on the bed railing and watched her as he let his mind drift.

Not surprisingly, his thoughts kept going back to the case. No matter which way he looked at it, he kept turning to Mrs. Hennessey. Constance Hennessey's murder had a fair amount of cold rage associated with it. The killer had taken time to look her in the eyes before putting a bullet in her forehead. Darian Hennessey's seemed more utilitarian. He was in the way. A love affair gone wrong? Constance wouldn't divorce her husband and their perp decided neither should live? Still, that didn't explain why the killer had stayed at the scene, what he'd been searching for so diligently or why he'd reacted so violently to what Calleigh had found. Dammit, what the hell had she found?

Eric shook his head. Maybe it had gone the other way, their mystery man had wanted to end it and Mrs. Hennessey had threatened to expose the affair. Was this man prominent enough that killing was a viable alternative to a sexual scandal? Delko knew he couldn't discount the possibility. Either way, they would have to start digging more deeply into Mrs. Hennessey's personal life and that would open a whole new can of worms. Daniel Hennessey would explode like Vesuvius at the merest hint of anything untoward about his parents. Eric didn't envy Horatio at all.

"Eric?"

At the sound of Calleigh's voice, his eyes snapped up from his contemplation of her hand. She looked exhausted and pallid, which Eric found surprisingly disturbing. It wasn't something he was accustomed to seeing. Calleigh always seemed to possess a boundless energy. He gave her a soft smile, "Sorry. Didn't mean to wake you."

"Didn't. Can't sleep." A ghost of a smile appeared, "Thought I was dreaming for a minute."

Eric's smile turned teasing, "Dreaming of me, were you?" His smile faded at the look on her face, "Calleigh... " Eric hesitated, somewhat shocked. Their relationship had developed over the years into a blend of trust, unshakable loyalty and the relaxed give and take of old friendship; all of it seasoned by an enjoyable light flirtation. Lately he'd been wondering how it might be to date Calleigh, to move on to that next step but hadn't had the courage to try. She was so guarded. What if he blew it and ruined what they had? His experiences with ex-girlfriends had been awful. He didn't know if he could stand losing her friendship. That he had come so close to losing her altogether had been the stuff of nightmares.

"It's all right," Calleigh closed her eyes. Dear Lord, as if she hadn't felt awful enough... If she'd been anywhere near normal, she would have never put Eric in such an awkward position. Never would have let him see what she'd refused to acknowledge, even to herself. What was she thinking? She wasn't his type - that much had become clear over the years. The women he dated were tall, gorgeous - and temporary. Eric wasn't looking to settle down any time soon and she needed permanency in her life. They were best friends and she knew she had to be content with that.

Eric let his gaze drop to the floor. Dammit, what the hell was the matter with him? Here he'd been daydreaming about a relationship with Calleigh and at the first sign that she might be interested as well, he'd panicked and froze, "I'm sorry."

The words were quiet and heartfelt. Calleigh dragged her eyes open to look at Eric. Confusion won out over exhaustion, "But you haven't done anything wrong." It was just like him to apologize for her mistakes. Maybe it was better this way. Her record with relationships wasn't anything to write home about. She could see herself screwing up a romance and losing his friendship as well.

Eric kept his head down, feeling the guilt wash over him again. The hell he hadn't - didn't she see that? The sound of the door opening alerted him and he took half a step back, needing to escape, "Get better, Cal. I... we need you." Turning, he looked at Officer Ferrara, "Keep her safe." With that, he strode out. He made it to his car before the enormity of what he'd just done hit him. In frustration, Eric raked both hands through his hair as he turned back to stare at the hospital. He'd been caught off-guard by the look on her face. Calleigh had ironclad self-control when it came to her emotions and he hadn't expected that to change. God, he was such an idiot! Wrenching open the car door, he dropped into the seat and leaned back against the headrest. How in the world was he going to fix this? If there was anything stronger than Cal's self-control, it would be that prickly Southern pride. She'd inadvertently gone out on a limb with him and he hadn't just sawed it off behind her, he'd cut down the whole damn tree.

Ferrara watched him leave and then turned back to look at the blonde CSI. She was staring at the door until she realized Ferrara was watching her. Calleigh closed her eyes again and turned her head away. Sleep was no more an option now than privacy but she could pretend. At some point in her chaotic thoughts, pretense became reality. She drifted off, once again in an uneasy slumber that gave little benefit. Ferrara checked her watch as Calleigh's breathing evened out, telling her the blonde had finally succumbed to sleep. She shook her head thoughtfully and decided that she was lucky to have her Ernesto. He didn't turn heads when he walked by but he was good-hearted and passionate about her. She'd stop by the all-night grocery on her way home and pick up what she needed to make him his favorite meal.


	6. Chapter 6

Here's the next chapter. Hope you all enjoy this and your weekend. Thank you to all who take the time to consistently review. It's very kind of you and much appreciated.

Chapter 6

Saturday,

9:13 am

Calleigh pushed her breakfast around the bowl, completely uninterested in eating. She supposed it was something that they even let her have real food - relatively speaking anyway. Bland, boring oatmeal wasn't her idea of a decent meal and hospital cuisine hadn't undergone any dramatic improvement since the last time she'd been stuck in one. That had been years ago, when she'd still been with patrol back in New Orleans. She and her partner had answered a domestic dispute that had turned into a free-for-all. She'd come out of it with a concussion, bruised ribs, an overnight hospital stay and two long weeks of desk duty. She'd done her best to stay out of them since then and now this. Calleigh contemplated the oatmeal with distaste and sighed. They'd started her on juice and jello and Dr. Staniforth had expressed cautious optimism about her healing progress. Then the man had turned around and okayed a miniscule amount of a food she considered less flavorful than shredded cardboard.

Truthfully, that wasn't the only reason for her lack of appetite. Eric's deer-in-the-headlights reaction to her slip about wanting more than friendship had hurt. How could she have been so stupid? Morosely, she picked at the oatmeal again trying another small bite. Had she ruined everything? Having Eric as a friend was better than nothing. What if he was too uncomfortable to handle being around her? How could she fix this while stuck in the hospital for God knew how long?

At least she now knew what had put her in here. Calleigh had jumped on the doctor as soon as she was able and he'd told her it was a pretty serious stab wound coupled with a mild concussion. That had shut her up for a time while she considered how such a thing could have happened. Had she been home or at work or somewhere in-between? Neither Alexx nor Horatio had been particularly forthcoming on that front. She understood their reluctance but it was damn frustrating. Judging by the continued police presence, whoever had attacked her was still on the loose. There was something else going on as well although she wasn't sure what. She was getting some odd vibes from the various officers that had been on duty.

On the plus side, she didn't have to worry about her father for the moment. Alexx had filled her in on the steps Horatio had taken on her behalf. Then the ME had grinned and offered a $5 bet on whether or not Horatio would deflect any effort at a thank you. Calleigh hadn't taken the wager but that didn't mean she wouldn't attempt to convey her gratitude. Knowing her father wasn't drowning his fear in a bottle was too big a gift to ignore. Hopefully, he would put off another visit until she could fabricate some sort of facade at normalcy.

Calleigh finally put the spoon down and rubbed her eyes with a slight grimace. Her fever had broken in the wee hours of the morning and given her a few hours of sound sleep. It had taken some of the edge off the exhausted feeling but the constant undercurrent of pain was dragging her down. It was her own fault. The other thing she'd done was talk her doctor into keeping her pain meds down to a bare minimum. Knowing that addictive personalities ran in her family, she didn't want prescription narcotics to do to her what alcohol had done to her father and mother. Unfortunately, taking the high road also meant she'd just have to deal with it.

A tap on the door had her and her current watchdog looking in that direction. A moment later, Eric cautiously put his head in. He smiled brightly when he saw Calleigh was awake and entered the rest of the way, "Hey, you're up." He walked over to the bed, one hand held behind his back, "You look better, how are you feeling?"

Calleigh couldn't help smiling back, pushing away thoughts of last night. It seemed Eric was willing to pretend it hadn't happened. That was fine by her, "I'll be better when they let me out of this place. You know how I feel about hospitals."

"And hospital food," Eric breathed a silent sigh of relief. It seemed Calleigh was willing to pretend last night hadn't happened. That was fine by him. He looked down at her dish and then smiled again, "Which is why I brought you a little something." He produced the bag from behind his back with a bit of a flourish and grinned at the look on her face, "How about your favorite blueberry muffins?"

"Oh Eric, you're a lifesaver!" Calleigh laughed, gingerly reaching for the bag. She hesitated, her smile faltering, at the sudden change of expression on Delko's face. "Eric? What's wrong? Are you okay?"

He chuckled mirthlessly, shaking his head and staring at the floor. 'Lifesaver?' Him? This was his fault. He'd left her alone and she'd damn near died. Even a blind man could see the pain she was in. How ironic that she would call him that, especially after his stellar performance last night.

"Eric, please, you're scaring me." That brought his head up and Calleigh was shocked at the abject guilt that was splashed across his face.

"This is my fault." His voice was barely audible.

"What is?" He didn't answer and she suddenly realized what was bothering him. "Was it how I got hurt?" Calleigh struggled to keep her voice steady, "Eric, tell me what happened."

Delko stared at her in surprise. He'd accepted what H had said about her loss of memory but seeing the reality still left him feeling off-balance. This was Calleigh after all - Wonder Woman in a small blonde package. "You don't remember anything?"

Calleigh leaned carefully back, grateful he was at least talking and slightly exasperated at the same time, "I remember everything up to leaving for a double homicide and I remember waking up here. Alexx and Horatio keep dancing around the issue because they don't want to 'upset' me. I finally got Dr. Staniforth to tell me I'd been stabbed but I still don't know how it happened." Her gaze sharpened. Eric might tell her, "Do you know? Was it at a crime scene?" She didn't mention the frustratingly random bits of images that popped into her head or flitted through her dreams. She couldn't get a firm hold on any of them and nothing made sense.

Eric slumped a little, "It was at the Hennessey crime scene. I'm so sorry, Cal."

"I don't understand. Sorry about what?"

"About this! About everything!" Suddenly angry, he waved his hands and realized he was still holding the bag of muffins. He slammed it with a thump onto the tray, causing the bowl of oatmeal to bounce.

Calleigh froze, her face going blank as she stared from the bag to Eric. It was a defense mechanism perfected in childhood when any kind of an expression could set off a drunken rage with either of her parents.

Eric watched her face drop all expression and deflated. He could never understand how she could move so quickly from emotional to emotionless but suspected he wouldn't like the answer. Eric raised a hand to scrub his face and almost missed the slight tightening of her features. Pained, he took a deep breath, "Calleigh, you know I'd never hurt you."

"I know." She did know but had been unable to quell the long-instilled reaction. Embarrassed that he'd caught that, she lowered her gaze to the bed for a moment before looking back up at him. Her instincts were screaming at her to keep her distance and it was a struggle not to shut down completely. Eric didn't deserve that, he seemed to be carrying enough guilt and anger. "What is it? What did I do?"

"Nothing! Good god, Cal, how can you even ask?" Delko scrubbed a hand through his hair while he tried to get a firm hold of his emotions. He knew he had scared her even though to the casual observer, it would look like she hadn't reacted at all. He needed to fix this before her fear turned to anger. Calleigh didn't respond well to being frightened... or to appearing weak. Being hospitalized had to be making her crazy. He eased closer to the bed and rested his hands on the side rail, "The victims of that double homicide were Darian and Constance Hennessey. Do you remember who they were?"

Calleigh's brow furrowed in concentration, "I... I'm not sure, I think I should know." She brought a hand up to rub her forehead and looked at Eric ruefully, "You have no idea how frustrating this is."

He gave her a sympathetic look, "No, I guess I don't." He paused for a moment, "The Hennesseys were part of Miami's high society. They were found shot to death by the maid. He was killed in the downstairs study and she was killed upstairs in the master bathroom."

"One shooter?" Calleigh frowned slightly when Eric nodded, "And two pretty separate locations - so the killer used a silencer."

Delko smiled, this was the Calleigh he was used to, "Yeah, there were double striations on the slugs we recovered." He relaxed a little more, leaning on the railing, "It's turned into a three-ring circus. The press and the television news have been all over this. We can't turn around without having a camera shoved in our faces." He smirked slightly, "Ryan's thrilled."

"Eric, stop. He's getting better," Calleigh couldn't help grinning a little. It faded as she fixed Eric with a stare, "What happened?"

Delko tensed, "Horatio sent you and me back for a second look. There doesn't seem to be any motive for killing the Hennesseys and Horatio thought we might be able to find something else to give us a lead." He dropped his gaze to the bed, "We split up to work each crime scene. I went upstairs and you went to the study... I'm sorry, Cal, it was my idea to work separately. If we'd been together, this never would have happened."

"You don't know that," Calleigh countered firmly. She paused and then looked at him in confusion, "So someone attacked me in the study? Didn't the police secure the house?"

"Yeah, they did... " He was about to tell her about the panic room he and Horatio had discovered when she suddenly interrupted him.

"Why is IA involved?"

Eric froze for a second, he did not want to be the one to tell her this. Why hadn't Alexx or Horatio let her know what was going on?

"Eric?"

Steeling himself, he said carefully, "As far as they knew, at the time of the attack, the house was secure and you and I were the only ones there." He stopped, not sure if he could bring himself to say the rest.

Calleigh's eyes widened, "They think that you... that's ridiculous! Why would... " Her face blanched as she realized what they might have considered as a motive, "They didn't."

Eric hung his head as he nodded. He knew what was being said. The only way he'd agreed to cooperate with Alexx earlier was if she told him exactly what rumors were flying around. He'd convinced her that he had a right to know what he was dealing with. Alexx hadn't been happy but she hadn't pulled any punches either. Eric thought he'd surprised her with the restraint he'd shown. He hadn't yelled, or thrown, or hit anything although he'd been sorely tempted. If he ever ran into Stetler, however, he'd risk firing and jail time to beat the hell out of the man.

"They think that we were... involved, and what? You attacked me because of some lover's spat?" Calleigh closed her eyes for a moment and rubbed her temples. If she didn't feel so much like crying, she'd be laughing hysterically at the irony of it all. She'd been so careful not to give in to her feelings about Eric and now this. It was ludicrous.

Eric kept his eyes on the bed and didn't say anything. How could he tell her that Stetler had painted her as a tease and a slut?

"Eric? What are they saying?"

There was a slight tremor in her voice but Eric couldn't tell if she was upset or infuriated. He glanced away, unable to look her in the eye, "The theory is that you were leading me on while seeing someone else and I lost it." Delko stopped and waited for the explosion. There was nothing. Finally, he couldn't stand the silence and chanced a look back. He felt a stab of pain at the devastated expression on Calleigh's face. He hurried to say something, anything that might alleviate the damage, "Cal... Calleigh, c'mon. No one who knows us believes that crap."

She stared at him, refusing to let herself cry, "What about the rest? Oh god, Eric, you know how people love this kind of thing. How are we supposed to do our jobs after this?"

Eric reached for her hand and stopped when she flinched. He took a deep breath. It had been a forlorn hope that she would see them as equal victims. Calleigh wasn't an idiot, by any stretch of the imagination. She knew exactly how she was being portrayed and how easily it was being accepted by the predominantly male police force. He was the victim and she was the bitch and that's what they would remember long after the true facts were known. Anger blazed once again at what that bastard from IAB had done. Eric's fists clenched as he straightened up, "I'm going to kill Stetler."

"No you won't, baby." Eric spun around to find Alexx standing in the doorway. She walked into the room, pausing to drop a hand on the blanket covering Calleigh's legs and smiling softly, "Hey, sugar." Alexx turned toward Eric who had backed up slightly and her gaze took in both CSIs, "What you two ought to do is file suit against that pathetic excuse for a man. This goes beyond a good faith error in judgment. He's slandered both of you and he did it deliberately in his vendetta against Horatio." She settled herself on the foot of the bed, keeping her focus on Eric and Calleigh and well aware that the patrolman in the corner was soaking up every word.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Saturday,

9:55 am

Calleigh and Eric exchanged confused glances and then looked back at Alexx. Eric spoke first, "This is about H?"

"Ultimately," Alexx folded her hands and leaned back a little. "Stetler and Horatio were up for one lieutenant's spot and Horatio got it along with CSI. Now Stetler's stuck with IAB and you know what they say about payback." She raised one elegant eyebrow at Calleigh, "He's not too fond of you either. It certainly didn't help when you refuted that brutality charge against Horatio so easily. Stetler had the choice of looking vindictive or incompetent, neither of which would advance his case for promotion. He's mean but not stupid. He realized that the next best way to get to Horatio would be to go after the people that are closest to him. This attack on Calleigh was a perfect opportunity for revenge. He could drag CSI and you two through the mud and make Horatio watch while he did it." Alexx reached over and gave Calleigh's foot an affectionate squeeze, "You were the first flaw in his plan. If you had died, he probably could have pushed his version of events through but you were too stubborn to give up." She nodded at Delko, "You were the second. I'm pretty sure Stetler was figuring you'd lose your temper and do something incredibly stupid so IAB put the final nail in the coffin."

"You're not saying he had something to do with the attack on Cal, are you?" Eric's eyebrows were high in surprise at their ME's revelation.

"Of course not," Alexx shook her head, "However, he was quick to see how this could play out to his advantage..." she paused to look at Calleigh, "... and he wouldn't have lost any sleep over your death. You've always been a tough line of defense for Horatio."

"Alexx, what they're saying... why didn't you or Horatio tell me?" Calleigh had to work to keep the hurt out of her voice. The whole situation was making her feel sick.

The ME gave her a level look, "Because it would have done more harm than good. Sweetie, you've just started to recover."

Eric looked down at Calleigh, anxious to reassure, "Alexx's right, Cal. Besides, now we can prove it's not true. Last night, Horatio and I found a hidden panic room in the study where you were stabbed. That's how your attacker was able to sneak up on you and why I didn't see anyone else at the house. H thinks it's the same guy that killed the Hennesseys. He's sending the report to IAB so I should be officially off the hook."

"A panic room? And the murderer knew about it? How?" After knowing so little about how she'd wound up in the hospital, this sudden deluge of information was making Calleigh's head spin. She shut her eyes and realized that the dizziness was increasing. An unexpected wave of nausea washed over her. Oh god, was she about to lose what little breakfast she'd eaten? What was going on?

"Calleigh? Are you okay?" Eric frowned and shot a worried look at Alexx. The ME's reaction alarmed him even more. She'd straightened up and was watching Calleigh intently. "Alexx?"

"Eric, go find her doctor. Now." Alexx shot to her feet and hurried to the head of the bed. Eric gave them both one more look before bolting from the room. Alexx grabbed the call button and hit it several times. That was all that was really necessary to summon help but she knew how hard it would have been for Eric to stand by and watch. He was dealing with enough guilt. She lifted the breakfast tray and swiftly put it on the floor. Turning back to the bed, she slid the side rail down with practiced ease. Alexx put her hands on either side of Calleigh's face. She still had her eyes shut and her skin was clammy. "Calleigh, honey, can you hear me? Come on baby, I need you to talk to me. Are you feeling sick? Nauseous?" She felt the blonde nod her head slightly. Alexx shifted one hand down to check Cal's pulse. What she found made her swear softly under her breath. Instead of racing, Calleigh's heart rate was dropping. A sudden hitch in breathing and the convulsive tightening of muscles was all the warning Alexx needed to realize what was coming next.

Apologizing for the pain she knew she was causing, Alexx pulled Calleigh on to her side, snagging the emesis basin off the nightstand. She was just in time as Calleigh retched and brought up the small amount she'd eaten of her breakfast. It wasn't long before the vomiting changed to dry heaves. Calleigh's eyes were squeezed shut as tears streamed down her face. Every time her stomach convulsed, her body exploded in pain and she couldn't seem to stop either one. She was dimly aware of Alexx's arm supporting her.

The door to the room flew open and a short, bearded man charged in, closely followed by Eric and a nurse. He stopped for a moment, assessing the situation and then fired off instructions to the nurse. She nodded and left the room almost as quickly as she'd entered. The doctor moved closer to the bed, nodding to Alexx. The two had become fairly well acquainted over the past few days. Dr. Issac Staniforth found that he liked as well as respected the ME, "What happened? Ms. Duquesne was fine 2 hours ago."

"She was fine 15 minutes ago. Now she's vomiting, dizzy and her pulse rate has dropped." Alexx broke off as Calleigh suddenly curled in on herself with a clench-jawed groan. The nurse reappeared with a tray and Dr. Staniforth quickly prepared and administered several shots. "To ease the muscle spasms and something for the pain," he explained to Delko who was hovering anxiously nearby.

Eric looked from one doctor to the other, "What's wrong with Calleigh?"

The two doctors eyed each other. Alexx nodded slightly and jerked her head towards the breakfast tray, "Eric, you need to get samples of that."

"What? I don't... " Eric broke off suddenly and scowled, "Let me get my kit." He hurried out of the room.

Calleigh collapsed back against the pillows, feeling drained and disoriented. The nausea was dissipating, as was some of the pain, thank god. It had been impossible to scream while retching, something of a mixed blessing. She'd been unable to stop the crying and now she couldn't seem to move her hands up to wipe away the tears. That scared her. "Alexx...?" Her voice sounded ragged and weak, much to her dismay.

"Right here, baby," Alexx accepted a cloth from the nurse and after dampening it slightly, began cleaning Calleigh's face. She was quite familiar with her friend's abhorrence of showing any sort of weakness in public. She didn't always agree, knowing that it sometimes gave Calleigh the appearance of being cold and unfeeling when she knew for a fact that the woman had a warm and cheerful nature.

"Can't move." She could feel her body. Hell, she almost wished she couldn't considering how badly she was still hurting but getting anything to move required considerable effort, more than she could summon at the moment. Calleigh tried to keep the alarm she was feeling out of her voice. She trusted the ME implicitly. Alexx would never allow someone to deliberately hurt her.

Dr. Staniforth moved into her field of vision, "It's the muscle relaxant I gave you, Ms. Duquesne. It will ease the spasms. It'll start wearing off fairly soon. The dosage was just enough to break the cycle. I also gave you something to help with the pain which should start kicking in any time now. I know how you feel about it, but this was necessary." She had explained her position earlier and while he thought she was being overly cautious, he had respected her wishes.

Calleigh managed a slight nod of the head, "Okay." She paused for a second, her eyes traveling from Alexx to Staniforth, "What's wrong with me?"

Alexx glanced at Staniforth again and decided on circumspection, "We'd have to run some tests before we could say for sure."

Calleigh's eyes narrowed suspiciously but before she could say anything else, Eric walked back in carrying his kit. His relief was palpable and he smiled when he saw Calleigh watching his arrival. He looked over at Alexx, "I called H. He's on his way."

"Good." Alexx turned back and caught the unguarded look on Calleigh's face as she watched Eric's preparations. The ME had figured out some time ago that the blonde had strong feelings for Delko. She was equally certain that Calleigh had no intentions of ever telling the man. Judicious questioning over time had helped Alexx understand the blonde's reluctance. It was amazing that someone as confident as Calleigh was in her profession, could be so insecure in matters of the heart. The woman truly believed that Eric saw her merely as a friend and nothing else. Apparently, Delko was equally paralyzed with this particular brand of stupidity. It was frustrating - like watching an O Henry story playing out in real life. Alexx couldn't help shaking her head as she watched Eric open his kit and begin to gather samples.

Pulling herself out of her musing, Alexx glanced back again and realized that Cal had put it together. She patted Calleigh's arm, then slid her hand down to check the blonde's pulse. She smiled reassuringly when Calleigh shifted her gaze, "It's okay, sweetie, the worst is over."

"Is it?" Calleigh closed her eyes, wishing she had the strength to get up and leave. Despite the lassitude imposed upon her physically, she couldn't remember a time when she felt so on edge and overwhelmed. Unwelcome memories were breaking free from carefully built walls taking her back to a time when helplessness, fear and anger were familiar companions. At least then there had been opportunities take back control, even if it meant grabbing her brothers and disappearing into the woods and bayous for extended 'camping trips'. Now she was under siege with seemingly little respite. It was chipping away at her self-control and she wasn't sure how much more she could take. Determinedly, she kept her thoughts away from Eric. She couldn't risk losing what little she had with him with an ill-timed emotional outburst.

Alexx regarded her friend with worry. It was frightening how quickly Calleigh's assailant had found a flaw in their defense and exploited it. What was worse was Calleigh's almost grim acceptance that this man would be able to reach her again despite the police presence. Alexx wasn't so sure that the blonde wasn't right but she wasn't about to admit it. Alexx rested a light hand on Calleigh's forearm, "Don't you worry, we're going to get this guy."

"Damn straight, we will," Eric agreed fiercely, looking up for a moment. After he'd finished collecting the samples, he would have a word with the nurses and find out who the hell had delivered a near fatal breakfast to Cal. He returned to his work with a focused determination, trying to keep at bay the thought that he'd nearly lost her again.

Meanwhile, Alexx had moved out of the way so Staniforth could examine his patient. There was fresh blood on the dressing but not an alarming amount. The ME sent a quiet thank-you skyward when it became evident that the stitches had held despite the spasms that had racked Calleigh. It could have easily been much worse. Throughout the examination and redressing, Cal had maintained a stoic silence but Alexx knew her friend well enough to sense the increasingly ragged control. Calleigh was on the brink of a stupendous meltdown.

While Staniforth finished cleaning up and re-bandaging the wound, Alexx crouched down near Eric. She kept her voice soft, "When you get done, I need you to head off Horatio for a few minutes."

Eric immediately looked worried. He leaned forward, keeping his voice down as well, "Why? What's wrong?"

Alexx shot a quick look towards the bed, "Baby, you know how Calleigh is. This guy's nearly killed her again and she hasn't had a chance to come to terms with it yet. I want to give her a little time without feeling like she has to bottle everything up because she doesn't want to lose it in front of Horatio."

Eric nodded. He knew how much Cal hated appearing less than professional, especially in front of their Lieutenant, "Okay. I was going to find out how someone could get to Calleigh's food after I got done here. I'm sure H will want to know, too."

"Thank you, Eric," Alexx put a hand on his shoulder as she stood up. She nodded to Staniforth as he and the nurse left the room. Eric finished next, sealing up his last sample and repacking his kit. Indulging himself, he smiled and reached over, giving Calleigh's hand a quick squeeze before leaving, too. That left one more person. Alexx walked up to the patrolman who'd been an avid observer of all that had occurred, "I need you to step outside for a few minutes."

He looked at her in disbelief, "Ma'am, I can't leave my post."

She folded her arms, "You're not leaving your post, you're moving it to the other side of the door for five minutes." Her stance shifted as she raised an eyebrow, her tone of voice telling the young man he was on dangerous ground, "Unless you think I'm a threat to CSI Duquesne."

"N-n-no, ma'am, not at all," the officer hurriedly began moving towards the door, Alexx's glare following him until he was out of the room.

She turned around to find Calleigh watching her with a small, tired smile, "You just got that young man in trouble." Her southern accent was more pronounced, something that tended to happen when she was stressed or exhausted.

Alexx smiled as she moved back towards Calleigh, "Well, he shouldn't have let me bully him." She sat down, taking care not to jostle the bed. Reaching out to brush a strand of hair off of Calleigh's forehead, Alexx decided on the direct approach, "This was way too close."

Calleigh closed her eyes and nodded. "It was poison, wasn't it? He dosed my food," she said quietly, trying to keep the tremor out of her voice and not fully succeeding. She was losing the iron grip on her emotions, something that rarely happened in front of others. What was worse was that Alexx seemed to know it was coming and apparently had no intentions of leaving. Please God, don't let the ME say something that would break the dam. At this point, it wouldn't take much.

"That's what it looks like," Alexx agreed. She chanced a smile, "Of course, the fool had no idea how much you hate hospital food."

Calleigh nodded again and then her face crumpled, "Oh Alexx..."

Carefully, Alexx wrapped her arms around her friend. "It'll be all right, baby," she murmured softly. "You'll see. Everything will be fine." She held on as Calleigh continued to sob. "That's it, you let it all out. Nobody here but us. Everything will be fine," she repeated over and over until Calleigh finally wound down.

- - - - - -

Saturday,

10:15 am

"Lt. Caine!"

Horatio took a deep breath, composing himself, before turning slowly around. Now was definitely not the time for this confrontation. He needed to get to the hospital. Damn, but he was beginning to dread getting calls from Eric. He was not in the mood to deal with the belligerent firestorm known as Daniel Hennessey, especially when the man was followed by more camera crews than the President.

"Yes, Mr. Hennessey?"

"Why hasn't there been any arrests in my parents' case?"

Staring at the man in front of him, Horatio quietly and deliberately removed his sunglasses and then slowly raised an eyebrow, "Because we haven't caught the suspect yet, Mr. Hennessey." His manner was excruciatingly polite, his expression perfectly blank, yet Horatio managed to convey how little he thought of the volatile and overbearing young man.

Hennessey flushed, hearing quiet sniggering from one of the camera crews. Drawing himself up, he spat venomously, "I don't know why I expected anything else from you, Caine. You can't even find the guy attacking your own people!" He found himself taking a stumbling step backward at the ice-cold fury suddenly radiating from the Lieutenant even though the man hadn't moved. Hennessey couldn't help the quaver in his voice as he spluttered, "You can't threaten me!"

"I haven't." There was no mistaking the unspoken 'yet'. Horatio took a deliberate step towards Hennessey and watched the man retreat even further, "Believe me, Mr. Hennessey, we will follow the truth wherever it goes and justice will be served." Sliding his glasses back on, he turned back on his original course and strode forward, the camera crews parting in front of him like the Red Sea.

Horatio marched into the hospital fifteen minutes later under a full head of steam. Dammit, how could he have been so stupid? It was his responsibility to protect his team and he'd let them down - again. With the police guard there were only so many ways to get to Calleigh. He should have anticipated this and taken steps. Horatio continued to berate himself as he rode the elevator up to her floor. She had to be all right, he couldn't bear the thought of losing Calleigh. It was bad enough dealing with his failure with Tim.

Eric had deflected questions about her condition, instead telling Horatio that both Calleigh's doctor and Alexx were on top of it. He'd almost snapped at Eric for not answering directly but common sense reared its ugly head and pointed out that it was possible Delko just didn't know. He would have to see for himself. When the elevator doors opened, he managed one long stride before having to pull up short. Eric was standing in his way. The younger man smiled, "H, I'm glad you're here. I was just going to talk to the nurses to see how hard it would have been to tamper with Calleigh's food."

"That's good, Eric," Horatio moved to step around his CSI and stopped again when Eric moved with him. He eyed Delko for a long moment and then slowly arched an eyebrow, "Eric? What's going on?" Despite his calm tone, his stomach was beginning to knot. Was Calleigh worse?

"It's nothing bad, H," Eric hastily reassured his Lieutenant. "Alexx just asked if we could give Calleigh a few minutes of privacy to - umm, you know, deal. You know how she is."

Horatio nodded briefly, concealing his relief as easily as he had his anxiety. He and Calleigh shared the same habit of presenting a calm face to the world no matter what the circumstances. He sometimes wondered if all children with less than ideal home lives grew up with that trait. At any rate, if Alexx could get her to let go of some of that bottled up pain, it would be a good thing. He would do his part, "Okay, Eric. Let's go talk to the nurses."

The two men walked to the nurses' station. Horatio hung back just a little and let Eric take the lead. He would be better able to weigh responses and reactions if Eric did the talking. Ten minutes later, he and Eric were walking back down the corridor. Delko sighed in frustration, "You'd think they'd be a little more careful with their food, wouldn't you?" They'd found out how the meals were prepared and labeled for each patient. An orderly delivered the food to each room, leaving the cart unattended for a minute or so each time. He followed the same route each day. It wouldn't have been hard for someone remove Calleigh's breakfast, add the poison and return it without being noticed.

Horatio absently fiddled with his sunglasses, gazing down the busy corridor, "Hospitals don't usually have to worry about someone trying to kill their patients once they're here."

Eric nodded and then frowned slightly, "But you'd think someone would have noticed a stranger hanging around the food cart." He paused while he took the thought a step further and saw an answering gleam in Horatio's eyes. They were thinking the same thing.

The two turned around and headed back to the nurses' station. Eric followed this time, letting Caine take over. "Excuse me," Horatio smiled briefly at one of the nurses, instantly gaining her attention. "Can you tell me if anyone new has started working on this floor this week?"

She shook her head slowly while thinking it over, "We have a new LPN but she's been here for over a month."

"What about the orderlies and janitorial staff?" Horatio persisted.

The nurse made a sound suspiciously like a sniff, "They change so often, it's hard to keep track. There might have been someone new but I couldn't tell you." She smiled winningly at Horatio, "Is there anything else I can help you with?"

"No, thank you," he smiled politely and turned back to Eric, moving a few steps away from the nurse. "We need to question the rest of the nurses on this floor. Our suspect would have needed time to learn about the meal routine."

Eric nodded, "It wouldn't be hard to forge a hospital ID and impersonating an orderly or janitor is a good way to blend in. No one pays that much attention to them."

Horatio gave him a grim smile, "That's about to change, isn't it?" He nodded to his left, "Why don't you take that side and I'll take the other?"

"You got it, H. I'll meet you back at the nurses' station." Eric hurried down the hallway, relieved to have something concrete to do to deal with this latest attempt on Calleigh.

Thirty minutes later, they met up again. Horatio raised an eyebrow, "Anything?" His interviews had yielded a disappointing nothing unless you counted the dinner, drinks or downright blatant sexual invitations.

Eric grinned, waving his notepad, "Two possibles, a Steve Bingham and Derek Laslo. Both started on this floor after Calleigh was admitted. I'll check with the hospital's HR dept. and see who was actually hired." He'd also managed to collect a number of phone numbers even though he'd made it plain he wasn't interested. They'd all been quite persistent. It had done wonders for his ego.

"Good," Horatio glanced at his watch, "I think it's time I looked in on Calleigh."

Eric nodded. It didn't take a genius to realize Horatio was feeling guilty. He could certainly empathize. Guilt was a constant companion of his lately, "I'll come find you when I'm done." He turned around and headed for the elevators. The sooner they caught this bastard the better. He'd drop in later to see Cal after he'd filed his report.

Horatio watched Delko stride purposefully away and then turned towards Calleigh's room. He could only hope that Alexx had been able to help. The thought of Cal suffering was unacceptable. He was almost to her room when he saw Alexx. She looked like a woman on a mission, so he stopped and waited, wondering if he was ever going to see Calleigh with his own eyes. "Alexx," he nodded when she got close, his eyebrows raised just enough so that she knew he was also asking a question.

"She'll recover. She ingested enough to make her sick but not enough to be lethal. You can thank her hatred of hospital food for that." Alexx folded her arms, "What's worrying me is her mental state. This is the second time that this man has made an attempt on her life. And if that weren't enough, she knows what's being said."

Scowling, Caine glanced away, taking a moment to contain the obscenities that were trying to escape. He looked back at his ME, "Who told her?"

"Eric. He didn't have much choice. Calleigh asked him point blank and you know how those two are. He won't deliberately lie to her." She eyed him for a moment, "Horatio, have you considered what you'll have to do when Eric and Calleigh finally get a clue?"

He stared at her, surprise plain on his face, "What?"

"You heard me." Alexx's voice was firm, "You know Stetler will go after them."

Horatio fingered his sunglasses, "And I'll be there to stop him."

Alexx was silent for a moment while she pondered that statement and then gave him a pointed look, "See that you do. They both deserve a little happiness."

A ghost of a smile tugged at Horatio's lips, "Don't we all."


	8. Chapter 8

Here's the next installment. Thank you to elislin and shell2005 for sticking with the story and taking the time to review. It is very much appreciated.

Chapter 8

Saturday,

12:30 pm

Eric tapped on the door and quietly entered Calleigh's room. After the events of this morning, he wasn't sure how she was going to react. It was getting harder to ignore the 800 lb. gorilla in the room. Silently, Eric cursed Stetler for turning the possible dream of a relationship with Calleigh into a goddamn nightmare. That slimy bastard had hit her right where she lived - impugning her integrity and professionalism. He shot a quick look at the patrolman in the corner and received a slight nod. Steeling himself, he then turned his attention to the blonde. She was watching him, her expression carefully neutral. Eric pretended not to notice, "You feeling better?"

Calleigh relaxed a fraction, "Some."

Eric settled himself on the bed, just below the side rail, as close as he could get without invading her space. He nodded, "That's good." They lapsed into an awkward silence until Eric cleared his throat, "How was H's visit? He seemed pretty upset with himself."

Calleigh gave as much of a non-commital shrug as she could manage, "It was okay. You know how he is - he's the boss so it's his fault. I tried arguing but it's like trying to nail jello to a tree. He's not listening." She cocked an eyebrow at him, "It's not your fault either."

Eric glanced away, not wanting to aggravate her. His situation wasn't anything like Horatio's. He'd been there when it happened. There was no excuse. They should have worked the scenes together.

Calleigh bit back a mild curse when Eric looked away. Obviously Horatio wasn't the only hard-headed male at CSI. She didn't want to get into a fight about it. She didn't have the energy. There'd been more with Horatio but she wasn't quite sure how Eric would take hearing about the rest of that conversation. Hell, she wasn't sure how to take it. After Horatio had apologized for not doing enough to protect her - and brushed aside all her protests to the contrary - he'd made an extraordinary leap and told her that he'd keep Stetler and IAB off their backs whenever she and Eric decided to make it official. It'd left her spluttering in surprise and Horatio smiling at her reaction.

There was another awkward pause and then Eric sighed, "Cal, I'm sorry about last night." He glanced away again, his voice soft and low, "Do you have any idea how much you mean to me?"

She stared at him for a second and then opted for the safe response, "Of course I do. We've been friends for a long time."

Delko dropped his gaze to the bed while his lips quirked in a half-smile. Trust Calleigh to give them both an out. "Yeah, we have." He took a deep breath and plunged over the cliff, "I want more."

Calleigh nearly squeaked in surprise, "What?"

He almost flinched. Resolutely, Eric marched on. This wasn't a time for cowardice, "I said I want more. With you - with us - I want us." He dwindled off, holding his breath. She could kill him with her next words. Just when the despair threatened to rise up and swallow him, he heard a soft, 'Me, too.' Eric's head shot up, "What?"

Calleigh was staring at her hands as she fiddled with the bed sheet, "I think I'd like an 'us', too."

"Really?"

She looked up to see Eric grinning from ear to ear and suddenly she felt lighter. Calleigh gave him an answering grin, "Really."

If he hadn't known it would cause Calleigh pain, he'd have crawled right up on the bed to kiss her. As it was, he had to settle for getting up and moving to the head of the bed. He leaned in and captured her lips with his own. It ended far too quickly as Eric felt Calleigh's hand on his chest, pushing him back. Suddenly worried, he gave her a questioning look.

Calleigh glanced towards the police officer in the corner and kept her voice down, "Please, I don't want to add to the gossip. There's been enough talk." She'd kept her voice steady and calm with an effort. It was a good thing she was off the heart monitor although it would have been interesting to see how the machine would have registered the flip-flops her heart was doing. Dammit, she'd kill for a little privacy. God only knew how that simple kiss was going to get distorted. It wouldn't surprise her if it turned to into some sort of lewd sexual encounter with Eric and both police officers by the time it made the rounds. This was Stetler's fault. So help her, she'd find a way to make him pay for this. There was a .357 Magnum in the gun vault she'd love to use on the southern portions of his anatomy.

Eric nodded slowly, swallowing his disappointment. He knew she was a very private person and she had a valid point about the rumor mills but, damn, he wanted to shout this from the rooftops. Exhaling in frustration, he straightened, "Yeah, you're right." Unable to resist some sort of contact, he defiantly grasped her hand, arching a eyebrow at the same time.

Calleigh couldn't help smiling at him. He looked like a little boy determined to have his way. She gave his hand an affectionate squeeze and was rewarded with another brilliant smile. Lord, but a girl could get used to this. She sank deeper into the pillows, doing her best to ignore the tendrils of pain that rippled through her. As much as she wanted to continue this, exhaustion was dragging her down.

Eric saw it at once and reluctantly released her hand, "Go ahead and sleep, Calleigh. I'll be back."

"You'd better," she murmured as her eyes drifted shut. She was out by the time he made it to the door.

Eric glanced back once more before exiting the room, new determination in his stride. Technically, he was off for the rest of the day but the only thing he really wanted to do was catch the SOB who was trying to kill Calleigh. Once he reached his car and had pulled out of the parking garage, he headed towards the lab. Horatio had told everyone to take off at noon and not come back until Monday. The swing shift would handle the case until then. Despite that, Eric was certain that his Lieutenant hadn't followed his own orders. He was hoping Horatio would understand why he had to be there and not chase him off.

Saturday,

2:00 pm

Horatio shook his head when he glanced out his office window and saw Eric walking down a corridor. He should have known Delko couldn't stay away. He'd been hoping the younger man would have settled on camping out in Calleigh's room. Getting up, he went after his errant CSI, catching up with him outside of Trace, "Eric? I thought you were going to see Calleigh."

Delko nodded, "I did. She's sleeping now. Did you find how anything else about Bingham and Laslo?" He was hoping to distract Caine from questioning his presence and he also wanted to know. Both men had been new hires, one as a janitor and one as an orderly. Either of them would have had the opportunity to poison Cal's food and both had worked today.

Horatio frowned slightly, recognizing the tactic and deciding to let it slide. He could see a hint of desperation in Eric's demeanor and knew that guilt was still driving him. It was driving them both. He let his shoulders relax slightly and saw Eric relax as well. What the hell, work was probably cheaper than therapy and a lot more productive.

Horatio returned to the problem of Bingham and Laslo. Both had been legitimate hires and that was unexpected. He'd originally thought their perp would have faked his employment. How could he have known he would get hired right away? Horatio paused in thought and then looked at Eric, "I believe we need to find out who these two were replacing and why."

Eric stared at him for a second and then nodded, his face grim, "You think our guy killed someone so he could take his place? Why take that sort of chance when he could just forge an ID and get in?"

Horatio's gaze dropped to the floor while he considered it, "It must be the time factor. We had police protection on Calleigh almost immediately. He needed time to come up with a plan to get to her. It would have been too risky to hang around without a legitimate reason. Someone was bound to notice."

"But why not just pretend to have been hired? No one was going to call the HR dept. to find out if he really was supposed to work here." Eric argued. He actually thought Horatio was on the right track but knew it was better to examine all sides of the question.

"The floor supervisor might have when they noticed an extra staff member running around day after day. Someone has to assign schedules. He couldn't take the chance." Horatio turned towards Trace, "Come on, Eric. We have a murderer to find."

They walked in to find Wolfe diligently at work. Eric glanced at Horatio and raised an eyebrow and the Lieutenant gave an unrepentant shrug. It seemed a number of the day shift personnel had come in to do what they could to help solve this case, weekend and orders be damned. This involved one of their own and they didn't intend to rest until the perpetrator had been caught. The swing shift supervisor and his people were willing to share the facilities. It was a way to contribute without slacking on their own cases. Horatio was damn proud of his people and their dedication. He directed his attention to Wolfe, "Anything?"

The young man sighed as he leaned back, "Nothing usable from the scene. Whatever trace this guy might have left was compromised by the EMTs." Ryan focused on Eric, his concern evident, "How's Calleigh doing?" He'd been planning on stopping by this afternoon but that was before this latest attempt.

"Sleeping when I left. Fortunately, she didn't eat much." Eric kept his voice steady as he spoke, trying to keep the guilt at bay. The killer had failed and Cal was still alive, he needed to concentrate on catching the bastard.

Ryan snorted softly, "Yeah, I heard she doesn't like hospital food." He shook his head, "This guy's got some set on him, going after her like that." He turned back to the layout table, "I've been going over everything again. The DNA was our best lead. I tried expanding the search and still didn't get any hits. Our perp must have never been in trouble before."

Horatio's gaze hardened, "Well, he is now, isn't he?" He glanced at Eric and paused slightly. He'd agreed earlier with Delko's theory about Mrs. Hennessey's murder but with taint of IAB's misbegotten accusations, it would be better if Ryan handled it, "I'd like you to start looking into Constance Hennessey's life. Her hobbies, her routines, everything. Something precipitated these murders and she's the key."

"Okay, you got it, H." Ryan nodded vigorously. They had done a background check on both of the Hennesseys earlier and hadn't come up with anything to red-flag. A more in-depth look might reveal the reason all this began. He knew Horatio was taking a chance. The Hennesseys had been powerful and well-liked. Their untimely deaths had elevated them to near sainthood in the press and Daniel Hennessey's very vocal criticism of Miami-Dade's police department and crime lab made for a volatile brew. Casting aspersions on either of the Hennesseys' character could be a career-breaker, especially if nothing came of it.

Horatio felt his pager go off and looked down at it. It was Tripp. He looked back at Ryan, "Keep me informed, Mr. Wolfe." Horatio left Trace with Eric in tow and headed for the front desk.

Frank turned as they walked up to him, acknowledging their approach with a quick uplift of his chin, "Hey, we've got an address to check out. Thomas Alverez was an orderly at the hospital. He supposedly called and quit three days ago. No reason given and no one's heard from him since. I've also got a rep from Coastal Electronics coming in soon. They're the company that installed the Hennesseys' house security including the entry system for the panic room."

Horatio nodded, "Very good." He looked over at Eric, "Why don't you go with Frank and I'll handle the rep."

"Fine by me, let's go," Frank turned and headed out of the building.

- - - - - - - -

Tripp pulled over next to a small, older bungalow and turned off the car. He looked at Delko, "This is the address. Doesn't look like anyone's home."

Eric slid out of the car, taking in the details of his surroundings, "Still have to look."

Frank gave a dry snort, "That's why we're here."

The two men made their way past the rusted wire gate and up the weed-choked walkway. Eric glanced around at the objects that cluttered the lawn. There were old tires that had been whitewashed and turned into the inevitable flower gardens. What was left of the flowers had gotten long and leggy before dying altogether. An old tub buried halfway into the ground was the shrine for a chipped and faded statue of the Virgin Mary. Yellow painted cement blocks that had faded to a dirty cream were sunk haphazardly into the ground outlining yet another garden that had gone back to nature.

Frank followed his gaze, "Not exactly Home and Garden material, is it?

Delko looked around again and shook his head, "Not anymore." He stepped up onto the small concrete porch and eyed the worn doorbell. Odds were that it didn't work either. He rapped sharply on the doorframe and waited, sharing a look with Tripp who was still standing on the walkway. After a minute or two, Eric pulled open the screen door and froze. There had been the faintest wisp of an odor he was all too familiar with. "Frank."

His tone brought the detective up onto the porch. Eric reached out and tried the doorknob. It was locked. Frank tried it next and then gave the door an experimental bump. Like everything else on the premises, the doorframe had seen better days. It vibrated from the contact with Frank's shoulder. He glanced at Delko, grinned and gave the door a sharp thump. It popped open with a loud crack. Frank looked at Eric with a bit of a smirk, "How about that? It wasn't locked." His smirk changed to disgust as a wave of fetid air wafted out, "Whoa, oh man, that's bad."

Eric stepped into the dark, hot interior, "I got a feeling it's gonna get worse." They found the body in the kitchen. With the decomp that had already taken place, it would have to be the ME determining the cause of death. Both men retreated from the house to use their cell phones. Eric to call the ME on duty and Horatio, Tripp to get some uniforms to the scene. Thirty minutes later, the quiet neighborhood was invaded by flashing lights and police. The activity drew a small crowd from up and down the block.

A patrolman approached Eric where he was standing in the yard, talking to Tripp, "Sir? There's a woman over there who might have seen something."

That got both men's attention, had they finally caught a break? They quickly followed the young officer over to where a small, elderly woman waited. As soon as they caught sight of her, Frank's stride slowed as he softly muttered, 'oh hell.' Delko could understand the detective's sentiment. Their supposed witness had to be 90 if she was a day.

"CSI Delko, Detective Tripp, this is Mrs. Finegold," the patrolman introduced them and then made his escape.

"Ma'am," Eric nodded to the old woman, "Officer Montoya says you saw something that might help us?"

"You'll have to decide that, young man. I've seen lots of things. I have no idea if any of them would be useful to you." She gestured towards the Alverez house, "It's a pity what happened there."

"Yes ma'am, it is." Eric kept his focus on Mrs. Finegold, ignoring Tripp's quietly impatient shifting.

"I'm not just talking about today," Mrs. Finegold turned bright, dark eyes towards him. "That's been a sad house ever since Imelda Alverez passed on, God rest her soul."

"Yes ma'am," Eric bit back a sigh, beginning to wonder if the woman had seen anything or if she'd just wanted the chance to talk.

"She was murdered, you know," Mrs. Finegold continued conversationally. "According to the police, it was an intruder but we all knew her husband, Luis, was responsible." She shook a finger at him, "God got him in the end, though. Storm blew a tree over. It landed right on the car he was in - killed him dead. Little Tommy got the house after that but I don't think he was ever quite the same again. Now this happens - makes you wonder about some families, doesn't it?"

"Yes ma'am," Eric decided it was now or never to get the old woman back on track. "Did you see any strangers around the Alverez house in the last three days?"

"No."

"Oh," Eric took a deep breath, trying to curtail his disappointment. Chasing someone with only the most general of descriptions was like trying to catch the wind. He'd been truly hoping this woman would be able to help identify their suspect.

"What I did see was one of those oversized sport utility trucks parked just down the road from here." Mrs. Finegold nodded sharply as Eric focused intently on her again. "It didn't belong in this neighborhood, I can tell you. It probably cost more than most of these houses. Sparkly clean it was, like it'd just rolled out of a showroom. I don't understand people these days. They buy an outrageously expensive truck that can go practically anywhere and then have absolute apoplexy if it gets a speck of dirt on it. Why own a vehicle like that when it will never do the work it was intended for? Ridiculous. When I was younger, trucks were meant for hard work, hauling things and carrying loads. Not now, oh no. Now they're some sort of status symbol so that these soft, pretty boys who have never done a honest day's labor can pretend that they're real men."

"Ma'am?" Delko interrupted as politely as he could. "What did it look like?"

"Like I said, it was big. Big, black and shiny. Who would want a black car in this kind of heat? Do you have any idea how much gas it must use even when it doesn't have the air conditioning running full blast? And with the gas prices these days - now that's a crime! You should arrest all the oil companies, if you ask me. Supply and demand, my Aunt Betty; it's price gouging, pure and simple. And then you have these fools with their gas-guzzling toys like the one that was here. I'm telling you, that man must have been made of money to keep driving that thing around."

Eric shot a glance at Tripp, "What man, Mrs. Finegold?"

"Mr. Fancypants-Can't-Get-A-Haircut," Mrs. Finegold folded her arms and harrumphed indignantly. "Can you imagine having enough money for a car like that and not spending a penny on good grooming? His poor parents are probably mortified. I would be if my Joey ever showed up looking like that. He's a good boy. Always neat and clean, even though he's retired now. And his kids are just as good, believe you me. Not like some of these young people you see today with their hats on funny, their pants falling off and earrings in places where no ear has ever been. Thank goodness my daughter-in-law has a good head on her shoulders. She raised those children right. Not like Ida Baransky's worthless daughter-in-law. That one spends all her time worrying about her kids' psyche while they run amuck. Poor Ida is constantly mortified by her grandchildren, and well she should be. Oh, she puts on a brave face, going on about individuality, like that's an excuse for dressing like a bum and acting like a hooligan."

"Excuse me, you said 'fancypants'?" Eric made a valiant effort to stem the torrent of information flowing from the old woman. God, this is where he wished Calleigh was here. She had an uncanny knack of getting people like this back on track without offending them in the process. Southern charm at its best. He resolutely kept from looking at Frank. He didn't have to see Tripp to know the man was amused at his predicament. "He was wearing expensive clothes?"

"Expensive, schmensive. Who can tell these days? They looked like rags to me so I expect they were the latest thing. I ask you, is a nice suit a crime?" She stopped for a brief moment, eyed Eric up and down and then cut him off as he opened his mouth, "That polo shirt and khakis are a little casual but they do show off your build. Do you work out?"

"Yes ma'am," Eric couldn't help reddening a little as he answered over Frank's sudden coughing fit. "Mrs. Finegold, would you be able to describe the man to me?"

"Allergies." Mrs. Finegold stated decisively, looking at Tripp. "Probably mold, the count is very high today. You know, Mother Nature always has a way of balancing things out. All this warm heat is wonderful for old bones but if you stay still for too long, you wind up with a layer of green fuzz." She tilted her head to one side, "Makes you wonder, doesn't it? How Pasteur made the leap from moldy bread to penicillin? Who thinks like that? Of course, if he had lived down here, he might have made the connection sooner. I think mold is Florida's state plant."

"Mrs. Finegold, the man from the SUV, was he tall, short?" Eric shot Frank a decidedly lethal glare which, unfortunately, caused the detective to resume his coughing with increased vigor.

"You should see a doctor about that, young man," Mrs. Finegold frowned. "You're not a smoker, are you? My Lester was, God rest his soul. Picked it up in the Army and then could never quit. Oh, I talked and talked to him about the dangers but he kept saying it relaxed him. Well, it relaxed him all right. One day, phfffft - just like that, he was gone. Of course, now the Surgeon General is saying secondhand smoke is just as deadly so I suppose I'll be next. It doesn't seem fair. I've taken care of my health all my life and now I'm going to an early grave from someone else's bad habit.

"Detective Tripp doesn't smoke, ma'am." Eric turned to stare at Frank, "But he could probably use a drink of water. There's a water bottle in the car, Frank. Why don't you go get it? I can do this without you."

Frank nodded silently and retreated much the same way Officer Montoya had. Eric steeled himself and refocused on Mrs. Finegold, "The man with the SUV, what did he look like?"

Forty minutes later, Eric wearily made his way to where Frank was leaning against the car. They were the last ones on the scene. He looked around, "Ryan and the ME have left already?"

"Dr. Felton rolled out of here about thirty minutes ago with what was left of Alverez and you just missed Wolfe," Frank folded his arms and stared fixedly at the young CSI.

Delko sighed quietly to himself. Folding his arms, he let his gaze drop to the ground, "Get it over with, Frank."

"Did you get her number?" Tripp's shoulders were shaking with suppressed laughter.


	9. Chapter 9

Once again I'd like to thank my little cadre of readers and reviewers. Your comments are always welcome. cbw, I was surprised and flattered to find your review as well. I hope you continue to enjoy the story. Not sure how you'll feel about the show. Like JAG, CSI Miami has a lot of unrealized potential - which is what fanfic is all about, right? ;-) On with the story...

Chapter 9

Saturday,

4:15 pm

Horatio walked into the layout room with Eric and Ryan right behind. Tripp had finally dropped Delko off at the lab 15 minutes ago. The detective had been a remarkably good mood considering he'd just spent several hours at a particularly pungent homicide. Eric, on the other hand, looked like he was at the tail end of a triple shift. There was a story there and maybe after they caught this psycho, he'd meet up with Frank and find out what it was. In the meantime, he'd sought out his two CSIs and told them to bring their findings with them. The interview with Coastal Electronics had been interesting on a number of levels. Now he needed to see how it fit in with the rest of accumulating evidence.

Eric and Ryan glanced at each other and at a nod from Ryan, Eric spoke first, "Toxicology came back. It was oleander in Calleigh's food. Someone took the time to grind the leaves and mix it in." He shook his head in frustration, "It's not going to help us find this guy. Practically anyone who gardens knows oleander is poisonous and the plant is everywhere. There's even a couple of them near the entrance of the hospital."

"I'm still analyzing the trace from the Alverez house," Ryan offered, "and Felton's still working on the post. He said he should have a cause of death soon."

Eric bit back a grimace, "There was a witness at the Alverez house but she's got to be ninety if she's a day and her eyesight's not great. She saw a black, late-model sport utility truck near the scene a couple of days ago. It was being driven by a tall man with sandy brown hair. I doubt she could pick him out of lineup." He flipped through his notes, "She did remember part of the license plate. I'll run it through DMV and see if anything matches up to a black SUV. It's probably a long shot, though.

Horatio nodded, noting Eric's discomfort and smothered a grin. He definitely needed to run down Tripp and hear the rest of the story. Putting the file folder he was carrying down on the table, Horatio offered his contribution to the afternoon's work, "It wasn't just a rep from Coastal Electronics that came by, it was the owner - Michael J. Owens." He paused and added dryly, "the fourth, in case you're interested."

Ryan rolled his eyes, "Incredibly interested. Did Owens say why he came instead of his rep?"

Horatio tilted his head to the side, "According to Mr. Owens, the Hennesseys were his best clients and it was his way of showing his respect. Of course, I saw him make a beeline for the reporters as soon as he left here. It wouldn't surprise me if he let them think he was consulting with us."

Delko snorted, "So he was here for some free publicity."

"Undoubtedly," Horatio smiled slightly, "He did get a little panicked when I asked him why he lied to Tripp. Went on and on about confidentiality, lawsuits and breaching contracts."

"Did he tell you who installed the system at the house?" Ryan asked.

"Yes," Horatio shook his head, "Unfortunately, it's not going to do us much good. According to Owens, he fired the man for drug use earlier this year. His name was Victor Kluge. I checked the police records and it seems that Kluge died of an overdose about 3 months ago."

"So that takes care of the theory of an inside job," Eric looked frustrated.

"So it would seem," Horatio let his head drop forward as he considered. Here was yet another death that could be linked to the Hennesseys' murder. It was too convenient. He would need to have Eric delve deeper into Victor Kluge's demise. His instincts were telling him that Kluge might actually be the first victim of their killer. Horatio was getting a clearer look at their suspect and he didn't like what he saw. Their quarry was capable of meticulous planning as well as bold action, making him all the more dangerous. He looked back at Eric and Ryan, "Mr. Owens said he can get us into the panic room first thing Monday morning. He's got to pull the files and look up the safety bypass information. He'll give me a call."

Ryan cleared his throat, "I've done some preliminary digging on Mrs. Hennessey. According to the maid, her social schedule was pretty full." He looked down at his notes, "Mondays she met with her Junior League committees in the morning, then it was tennis and golf lessons at the Coralgates Country Club. Tuesdays and Thursdays were spent with Kidney Foundation and Cancer Society finance committees to discuss fundraising efforts and then it was a couple of hours at the gym with her personal trainer. The Garden Club met Wednesdays for brunch and she was also on the Greater Miami-Dade Library Board. She and Mr. Hennessey belonged to the Beach Palm Dance Club and attended the weekly dance and dinner parties on Fridays." He closed his notepad, "I'm setting up interviews with her friends and fellow committee members."

Eric grinned at his colleague, "Who said the rich have it easy?"

"Not I," Horatio smiled slightly and then grew serious again, "So we have a house with a panic room that was never in the original plans and a shady contractor who built it and has since disappeared. That's followed by the untimely death of Victor Kluge, installer of the biometric entry system to the panic room. Then there's the killing of Darian and Constance Hennessey, after which the murderer uses the panic room to evade the police and later to ambush Calleigh and take whatever it was she discovered behind the desk in the study. Again, he evades detection by using the panic room but he's made a mistake. Cal is still alive. It's possible she saw him, more likely he's afraid of what she found. There was a police guard on Calleigh almost immediately and so the next death is that of Thomas Alverez, hospital orderly. Two days later, there's a second attempt on Cal, which also fails."

"He's 0 and 2 with her," Ryan frowned, "This guy's probably getting frustrated or pissed."

"Or both," Horatio's gaze was steely, "Which means he's more liable to make mistakes."

"The panic room is beginning to sound like the link," Eric said with a bit of an edge to his voice. He didn't even want to think about any more attempts on Calleigh. "You think our perp is the missing builder?"

Horatio turned his head slightly and gazed off into the distance, "Hard to say, he put in the room but not the entry system. How would he have known how to alter the program to allow access?"

"So we're back to Coastal Electronics and Victor Kluge," Ryan sighed in frustration.

Horatio nodded, "According to Owens, when the man wasn't high, he was an absolute genius with electronics."

Eric rubbed the back of his neck. Dammit, there was something there, he could feel it, "Did Owens say who else would be familiar with the Hennessey system? There'd have to be someone available for repair work."

Caine shook his head, "Mr. Owens didn't mention anyone specific." He frowned in memory, "Actually, it was hard to get the man to stop talking and for all that, he didn't have much to say. For the most part he kept repeating how the Hennesseys were wonderful clients to work with and that he wished he had a dozen more like them."

"Yeah, right. More like a dozen more of their bank accounts." Ryan snorted. Eric shot him an answering grin and shrugged.

Horatio looked thoughtfully at his CSIs, "Do either of you have any idea how the Hennesseys could have become so 'wonderful' for Mr. Owens?"

The two young men glanced at each other. Eric shook his head, "I'm not sure what you mean, H."

"What I mean, Eric, is that Coastal Electronics is not a security service. Once they install a system, the only time they hear from their customers would be for routine maintenance or if something needed repair. The house is less than two years old. Unless the Hennesseys spent a lot of time upgrading or their system was constantly broken, how could they become so 'wonderful'?"

Eric gave Horatio a skeptical look, "I assumed he was exaggerating his relationship to the Hennesseys to make his company seem more important. Everyone wants their fifteen minutes of fame."

"Check into it please, Eric, and I'd like you to look at Victor Kluge's death as well."

"I'm on it, H," Eric stated firmly, gathering his notes.

He paused as Horatio held up a hand and addressed Ryan, "Coordinate with Eric and see if you can find any connection between our missing builder, Coastal Electronics and Mrs. Hennessey. Also, when you check with Mrs. Hennessey's friends and colleagues, see if anything different happened within the last year."

Ryan nodded slowly, "You think Mrs. Hennessey was having an affair?"

Horatio gazed at him silently for a long moment, "Or someone was hoping to."

"A stalker?" Eric looked startled, "Wouldn't she have reported it to the police?"

"Depends on the stalker, doesn't it?" Horatio countered quietly, "It's possible she didn't know or looked at it as a harmless infatuation and didn't want to get the man in trouble."

Eric and Ryan looked at each other and then at Horatio, Ryan spoke first, "We'll see what we can find out, H." Eric nodded in agreement and the two CSIs left Layout, already quietly conferring on their next move.

Horatio watched them leave with a mixture of satisfaction and chagrin. The two were finally beginning to function as a team and that would be to everyone's advantage. All it had taken was Calleigh's near death. Veering away from that painful thought, he headed for his office and some long overdue paperwork. He'd clear out what he could this evening and then drop in on his favorite ballistic expert.

Sunday,

4:55 pm

Eric acknowledged the officer outside Calleigh's room with a quick nod, tapped on the door and then stepped inside. This was his second visit of the day and, hopefully, he'd have Calleigh all to himself this time. Horatio had made the rest of the team take today off to rest and regroup, so it shouldn't have surprised him when he stopped by the hospital around noon to find the Lieutenant, Ryan and Alexx already there. Ignoring Alexx's look, he'd joined the group and easily entered into the conversation. That had lasted for a little over an hour until both he and Alexx noticed the signs of fatigue on Calleigh's face. Alexx had taken the lead, shooing everyone out so their colleague could rest. Eric had been the last to leave. He'd dropped a quick kiss on her forehead and promised to come back in the evening.

His eyebrows rose in surprise to see Calleigh sitting in a chair near the bed. Smiling, he gave her a conspiratorial look, "If you're trying to escape, Cal, it works better with wheels."

The nurse, who was hovering nearby, chuckled and Calleigh raised an eyebrow at her, "Don't encourage him, Brenda, he'll be telling light bulb jokes next."

The woman laughed out loud and then checked her watch, "Five more minutes, Calleigh, and then we'll call it a day." She looked over at Eric and smiled, "I need to step out for a moment. If you swear to refrain from the light bulb jokes, you may keep Ms. Duquesne company until I get back."

"Not one," Eric promised solemnly. He waited until she left and turned back to Calleigh, looking slightly pained, "Light bulb jokes?"

She gazed at him innocently, "I didn't think you knew any blonde jokes."

He smiled at her while he weighed the number of jokes he did know against this particular blonde's prowess with firearms. It was no contest, he wasn't a foolish man. "None," he agreed amicably. Settling on the bed, he scanned her appearance. Despite the cheerful front Calleigh was presenting, it was apparent the act of sitting on her own was painfully taxing. Reaching for her hand, he observed softly, "This is new."

"The latest in medical advances," she agreed, making an attempt at a normal smile. There was a fine sheen of perspiration on her forehead. "Once they figure your pain is down to a manageable level, they find ways to kick it back up."

"Hey, we have to justify our existence somehow." Brenda had quietly re-entered the room. Although her focus was primarily on her patient, she couldn't help but notice the subtle relaxation of the young man on the bed. The sense of relief was surprising. He had barely glanced in her direction as she opened the door but the intensity as he assessed the threat level had been downright scary. She checked her watch, "Three more minutes." She smiled sympathetically at the barely suppressed groan, "I know but it will get easier. I promise."

Feeling Eric's gaze upon her, Brenda turned towards him, "We've found that the sooner we can get our patients moving, the faster their recovery will be. If we don't run into any setbacks, we should have Calleigh up and walking within the next two or three days."

Eric's concern sharpened, "Where?"

The intensity was back and Brenda looked a little flustered, "Umm, at first, it's just here in the room but after that we usually have them walk the hallway. Is that a problem?"

"It is if y'all think I'm going anywhere in this thing you laughingly call a gown," Calleigh growled, her annoyance only partly feigned. They wanted her to walk? It hurt like hell just to sit.

Eric found himself pleasantly distracted by that visual. He directed a small grin at the irate southern belle, "I don't know, I think it has some redeeming qualities."

"Fine, you wear it. Just ask Alexx to bring me something that can actually be considered clothing." Calleigh knew she was becoming snappish but it was hard to control. She did not do helpless well and now she needed help almost constantly. It was humiliating, frustrating and there didn't seem to be an end in sight. Just moving from the bed to the chair, even with Brenda doing a good deal of the work, had given her new insight into the amount of pain a body could endure. Holding herself rigidly upright for the fifteen minutes Brenda wanted had depleted what little energy reserves she had and now she was unhappily anticipating the painful journey back to bed.

"I'll call her as soon as I get home," Eric answered soothingly, mentally kicking himself for being flippant when it had been obvious that Calleigh's mood was deteriorating.

There was an awkward silence. Calleigh gave a light sigh and rubbed her forehead, trying not to wince as the movement pulled at her healing back muscles, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to take my bad mood out on you."

He shook his head, "It's okay."

Whatever else he might have said was interrupted by the beeping of Brenda's watch. "Time's up," the nurse smiled and looked at Delko, "Would you like to give me a hand?" He nodded quickly and walked over to the other side of Calleigh's chair, listening carefully while she explained the best way to move Cal without inflicting any more pain than necessary.

Together they lifted the blonde to her feet and hung on as she covered the short distance to the bed. Calleigh kept her jaws clenched tight, determined not to utter a sound. It was bad enough that she had snapped at Eric, she wasn't going to make him feel guilty about hurting her, too. If the circumstances were different, Calleigh undoubtedly would have enjoyed the warm touch of his hands. Right now, however, she just wanted to rest and ease the pain.

Once they had Cal sitting on the bed, Eric bent down to swing her legs up while Brenda supported Calleigh's shoulders as she eased the blonde back into the pillows. Once more lying down, Cal released the breath she'd holding while Delko carefully covered her with the light blanket. Her stoicism hadn't surprised him in the least. What had surprised him was the willpower it had taken to keep his hands from roaming upwards from their position on her calves.

"There you go," Brenda stated cheerfully as she manipulated the controls to raise the head of the bed a bit higher. By now, she knew the blonde disliked having conversations with people while flat on her back, "Feel better?"

"Uh-huh," Calleigh replied, her relief evident, "I'm sorry for being such a grump." Her glance swung over to include Eric in her apology. He gave her a smile in return.

Brenda waved a hand, "Don't apologize. I know it hurts and, believe me, you don't hold a candle to some of my patients. At least you're not screaming obscenities at me."

Calleigh regarded her ruefully, "You might want to reserve that judgment until after you have me up and walking."

"Nah, you're not the type," Brenda chuckled.

"Once Calleigh's moving around, how soon can she be released?" Delko asked quietly. Calleigh fell silent, focusing intently on the nurse's reply. More than anything, she wanted out of this hospital. Bless Eric for bringing it up. After her less than stellar behavior, she hadn't wanted to appear whiney on top of it all.

Brenda spread her hands apologetically, "That's really up to her doctor." At the disappointed look on Calleigh's face, she relented slightly, "If I had to make an educated guess, and assuming Calleigh makes the expected progress, I'd say no later than the end of next week." She pointed a finger at the now smiling blonde, "It will probably be on an out-patient basis. You're looking at a good month of physical therapy." She glanced at her watch and grimaced, "I'm sorry, I have to get to my next patient. Mr. Salzbury is one of the yellers and he gets more irritated when I'm late." She acknowledged Eric's 'good luck' with a wave of her hand and then she was out the door.

Eric took his accustomed perch on the side of Calleigh's bed and looked at her appraisingly, "Tired?"

"A little," Calleigh saw the look he gave her and rolled her eyes, "Okay, all right, I feel like I've been steamrolled. Happy?"

"No," Eric hung his head a little, "I hate that you're in here at all."

His head came up when he felt her hand grip his. He finally met her eyes and was surprised at the sympathy there. Calleigh stared at him for a moment longer, making sure she had his full attention, "Listen to me, none of this was your fault. The only one I want you to blame is that SOB with the knife. Him, you can be all over like bees on honey. Do we understand each other, Mr. Delko?"

"Completely, Ms. Duquesne," His tone was velvet soft and Calleigh felt a blush color her cheeks. Exploring a relationship with this man was going to be a treasure hunt in the best possible sense. It was a hell of an incentive to get well.

There was a tap on the door and then an orderly entered carrying her dinner on a tray. Calleigh couldn't help tensing while Eric stared at the man.

The orderly glanced around nervously, uncomfortable from the intense scrutiny both from the dark-haired man on the bed and the cop in corner. Both seemed quite willing to shoot him and he couldn't be too sure if they wouldn't. Word had spread quickly through the hospital staff about the attempted poisoning of the injured police officer. It didn't take a genius to know that nothing ticked cops off more than someone going after one of their own. The suits in Admin were beside themselves, fearing the possibility of being sued. Meanwhile, he'd been the unlucky man his supervisor had picked to deliver this meal. He hefted the tray a little higher, "Straight from the kitchen, no stops."

Delko nodded and indicated the bedside tray with a tilt of his head. The orderly put the dinner there and then all but bolted from the room. Calleigh looked from it to Eric and shook her head a little, "I'm not hungry."

He arched an eyebrow at her, "Alexx ratted you out. I know you didn't have lunch either. You need to eat something, Cal." When she made no move towards her dinner, he stood up and moved the tray into position over her bed. Sitting back down, he pulled the cover off and inspected the contents silently. Haute cuisine it was not, but neither did it appear completely unappetizing. He turned his attention back to her, "It doesn't look too bad."

Calleigh eyed the food with distaste, "That's what you think."

Eric gave her a look and then picked up the fork, "May I?"

"Feel free," Calleigh leaned back slightly, her amusement barely concealed. She watched as he ate a forkful, knowing he was both attempting to reassure as well as convince her that hospital food was edible. Calleigh had a harder time containing herself as Eric's face went carefully blank while he continued to chew. Finally, he swallowed and turned towards her. Calleigh pointed a finger at him, "Don't even try. You looked like you were eating sawdust."

He couldn't help smiling as he shook his head. "It wasn't that bad. But," he leaned over and began cutting the meat into small pieces, "that doesn't mean you can go a week without eating." Eric looked back up at her as he speared a chunk of meat, "You like your food separate or mixed together?"

"Mixed together," her eyes widened, "Eric! You are NOT going to feed me!"

"Your choice. One way or the other, Calleigh. You need to get your strength back."

He kept his expression neutral although there was a glint of mischief in his eyes as Calleigh huffed indignantly and then held her hand out for the fork. Grumbling under her breath, she began eating, taking a moment here and there to glare at him. She finished in a surprisingly short amount of time although Eric suspected it was more a matter of getting through an unpleasant situation quickly rather than any real appetite. He resisted the urge to make the usual 'See, it wasn't so bad' comment. Calleigh still had the fork, he wasn't anxious to see her turn it into a lethal weapon.

Instead, he leaned back and gave her a thoughtful look, "How about a deal? You eat what they give you until you're sprung from this place and I'll keep you up to date on the Hennessey case." He figured part of Cal's growing ire was boredom. Now that she was awake more than asleep, she needed something to occupy herself. Daytime TV wasn't going to do it. Letting her think about the case would be a win-win situation. Calleigh would have something to sink her intellectual teeth into and he'd get to spend an extra hour or so in her company each day. Officially, she couldn't be part of the investigation but he doubted Horatio would object.

Calleigh didn't even hesitate, "Deal." She'd put up with a lot more than crummy food for a crack at whoever had put her in the hospital in the first place. "Where are you?" She listened attentively as he presented the case they had so far, chuckling when he described his seemingly never-ending interview with the verbose Mrs. Finegold.

Finally, Eric stood up, "That's enough for one night, Cal. You rest and I'll see you tomorrow."

Nodding in agreement, Calleigh smiled up at him, "Okay, thanks." She watched as he walked out and leaned back into the pillows with a weary sigh. It had been a satisfying if tiring evening. Talking shop with Eric beat not talking to him at all. Unfortunately, she had been having an increasingly hard time hiding her exhaustion while he'd been here and she wasn't sure if she'd pulled it off or not. Probably not, Eric knew her better than anyone except possibly Alexx. Still, she was making steady progress and she would continue to improve - providing no one else tried to poison her. Her lack of enthusiasm for eating hadn't just been about the abysmal flavor of hospital food.


	10. Chapter 10

Here's the next installment - this chapter deals strictly with the case so I suppose some of you will find it boring. Sorry about that, but it's all necessary to the story. Once again, thank you for the reviews.

Chapter 10

Monday,

8:20 am

"Horatio!" Ryan called, striding down the hallway. He held up a file, "We have a plate to go with that partial Eric got from the witness at the Alverez crime scene."

"Very good, Mr. Wolfe," Horatio waited for the young man to catch up with him. "Who's our suspect?"

Ryan handed over the file, "His name is Jackson Wiley. The plate belongs to a Cadillac Escalade that's been leased to Oyster Bay Construction. Wiley's listed as the owner. According to his driver's license, he's 6' 2" with light brown hair."

Horatio nodded as he opened the folder, "So our Mr. Wiley is a contractor. Oyster Bay isn't the construction firm that finished the Hennesseys' house, is he connected somehow?"

"I checked with state, Oyster Bay Construction was established late last year." Ryan grinned, "The interesting part is the lease agreement for the Escalade." He waited for Horatio to turn to the appropriate copy.

Horatio's eyebrows rose, "The co-signer was Constance Hennessey? Now that is an interesting turn." He looked over at Ryan, "Have you checked out the addresses for Mr. Wiley and Oyster Bay Construction yet?"

Ryan shook his head as Horatio handed the folder back, "Frank's going to look into it for me and he also said he'd see if he could track the rest of Oyster Bay's finances. If Mrs. Hennessey put her name to the car lease, it's possible she was funding more than that. I've got interviews scheduled this morning with Miriam Hotchkiss and Denise Pennington. They're friends and served on some of the same committees with Mrs. Hennessey."

"Keep me posted, Mr. Wolfe." Horatio nodded and then glanced down the hallway, "Eric and I will be over at the Hennessey house with Mr. Owens if you need to get hold of us."

"Right, good luck," Ryan turned and walked away.

Horatio continued down the hallway to the reception area where Eric and Michael Owens were waiting. He could see that Eric was keeping as much distance as he could. While it wouldn't have been obvious to the casual observer, he knew Delko well enough to pick up on the contempt the younger man was trying to contain.

Despite the expensive suit, there was that feeling of something illicit wafting about Owens that had Horatio's radar pinging. The man welcomed him enthusiastically enough, commencing a non-stop chatter of shallow camaraderie. Eric obviously tuned Owens out fairly early but Horatio kept half an ear on him. There was something going on with this guy. He kept catching brief glimpses of something predatory in the man's demeanor despite the cloyingly false bonhomme he projected.

Horatio had also caught some of the covetous looks cast in both he and Eric's direction so it was possible it was nothing more than hopeful lust, but he couldn't be sure. Trailing behind Eric and the businessman as they headed for the cars, he noted absently that the man walked with a rolling limp. They stopped at the Hummer. Owens gave them a half hopeful look and when neither man said anything, deflated slightly and gestured to his right, "My car's over there. I guess I'll meet you at the house?"

Horatio nodded and then asked offhandedly, "Are you alright, Mr. Owens?"

Owens gave him a confused look until Horatio nodded towards his leg. The man's expression cleared and he gave them a disparaging smile, "Oh, that. A skiing accident when I was in college. Shattered the bone. When they finally got me back together, that leg was a little shorter than the other. It's no big deal." He gave them a conspiratorial chuckle, "I've got a orthopedic shoe I'm supposed to wear but it's a pain in the ass, so sometimes I just limp. Don't tell my doctor on me."

"Not a word," Horatio assured him solemnly. He didn't have to look at Eric to know the young man couldn't care less about Owens' leg, shoe or doctor. He started to turn towards the Hummer, "We'll meet you there, Mr. Owens."

As Caine pulled out of the garage, Eric glanced over, "Can you believe that guy?"

Horatio raised an eyebrow, frowning a little, "Not at all." Stopping at a traffic light, he checked the rearview mirror and then looked at Delko, "Did you happen to run his name through the system?"

Eric nodded, "Yeah, nationwide. There was nothing. Not even a parking ticket." He paused and then shrugged, looking out the window, "He bugs the hell out of me but I guess that's not a crime."

"No, it's not," Horatio agreed thoughtfully, wondering if it was Owens' sexual orientation that was putting him off. He never considered himself to be homophobic but then, he'd rarely had anyone look at him like he was prey. He felt a new sympathy for Calleigh and Yelina and the crap they probably put up with on a daily basis.

Arriving at the Hennessey house, Owens led the way to the study, "Simply ingenious the way they hid this entrance, don't you think?"

Eric struggled not to roll his eyes, did this guy ever shut up? "Yeah, simply amazing." He shrugged slightly when Horatio gave him a look. Owens hadn't seemed to notice the sarcasm.

He went right to the hidden switch and flipped it, stepping back as the bookcase swung open. "Ta-da," he said happily as he headed down the steps. Horatio and Eric followed behind, exchanging another look. They watched while he pulled a slip of paper out of his pocket and began punching in numbers. Horatio took a moment to check the bottom of the door. The sliver of paper was still there. He nudged Eric and tilted his head towards the door. Eric looked down, saw the paper and gave a small nod.

"Here we go," Owens hit a final key and the door swung inwards.

He had just started forward when Horatio spoke up, "That's far enough, Mr. Owens." Caine's eyes narrowed when he saw the man's shoulders tense for a split second. When Owens turned around with an innocently bewildered expression, he almost questioned what he'd seen. "It's a possible crime scene, you might contaminate evidence. You'll need to wait in the study."

"Oh, right, of course. What was I thinking?" Owens started babbling as he backed up.

He turned to leave and Horatio stopped him again, "How hard is it to get the door open from the inside?"

Owens turned back, a smile plastered on his face, "Not hard at all. There's a latch to turn, that's it."

"Is it possible for someone to be locked in from the outside?" Horatio's instincts were on full alert.

"Oh, heavens no!" Owens' eyes widened dramatically. "This is designed to be a safe haven, not a trap. The biometric system can be overridden manually from the inside. It's a failsafe in case there's some sort of power outage." He gave Horatio a hopeful look, "Do I still have to wait in the study?"

"Actually, Mr. Owens, if you'll give me the entry code, we can let you get back to your work. Processing can take hours and we've already imposed upon you enough." Horatio watched silently as the man dithered a little before reluctantly handing over the paper. "Thank you. We appreciate your help."

"Are you sure there's nothing else I can do for you? For either of you?" Owens stared at him, his double meaning now blatantly obvious. Apparently the thought of leaving had made him bolder about his intentions.

Horatio permitted himself a slight smile as he glanced at the floor for a moment before giving Owens a penetrating stare, "Not a thing." Unclipping the small radio from his belt, he kept watching Owens as he activated it, "Officer Ramon? Mr. Owens will be leaving now. Would you make sure the media doesn't bother him? Thank you." He watched as Owens finally turned and walked out and then returned to the panic room. Eric was busily photographing the interior.

The young CSI looked over his shoulder as Caine entered the room, "Did he leave?"

"Reluctantly," Horatio pulled on his latex gloves.

"What a creep," Eric returned to his work.

"Ye-es," Horatio drew the word out thoughtfully.

Eric glanced back again with a bit of a grin, "What? Did he hit on you, too?"

Horatio gave him a look, "Yes, he did but I think there was more to it than that."

"Well, he swings both ways. You should have seen him checking out Yelina when she walked by while we were waiting for you." Eric's expression clearly said he thought Yelina would have been more than capable of kicking the guy's ass if he'd tried anything.

"It's probably better that I didn't," Horatio turned on his flashlight as he began examining the room. Unsavory, immoral people were a fact in his profession and they came from all walks of life. Apparently, Owens had never crossed an official line, so there was nothing he could do. Putting the man out of his mind, Horatio focused his attention on the task at hand.

Thirty minutes later, Eric looked around in frustration, "I can't believe how clean this place is. I'm not getting anything."

Horatio nodded as he took another look around, "And that's not normal, is it? Someone's taken the time to clean up."

"Our perp? He hasn't been back since we found the room. When would he have cleaned it?"

"It would have had to been after he attacked Calleigh. There's no blood in here." Horatio frowned thoughtfully, "But we do have our monitors, don't we?" He walked over to the control panel that was recessed into the wall near the entrance. "Quite the setup, isn't it?" He peered at the different screens, "Whoever is in here can see almost everywhere else in the house."

Eric frowned, "So that son of a bitch could see both Calleigh and me."

"And would know when to attack her," Horatio's eyes narrowed. "He could avoid you but after that... this place has been surrounded by the media. How did he get out without being seen or breaking the seals?"

"He was careful. He waited until it was dark and then slipped out," Eric stared at his boss, wondering where he was going with this.

"According to the security layout, there are motion detector lights around the exterior of the house." Horatio turned his attention to the rest of the room, making a slow circuit as he studied the walls.

Eric frowned slightly and joined him, "What are you looking for?"

Horatio glanced back at his CSI, "Another access."

"You're kidding, you mean like a secret tunnel? Eric gave his lieutenant a disbelieving look, "Why would the Hennesseys do something like that? This isn't a castle. No one was going to put this place under siege and they've never been connected to anything even remotely illegal."

Horatio didn't stop his examination, "Perhaps they didn't know about it."

Eric snorted, "Oh c'mon, H. How couldn't they know? It's their house."

"How many people watch their house being built on a daily basis?" The more Horatio thought about it, the more sense it made. "Remember our builder wasn't particularly honest. What if he wanted an undetectable way back into the house at some later date?"

"Seems like a lot of trouble just to rob the place. Why not just make a copy of the keys?" Eric shook his head before giving a mental shrug and turning his attention to the walls. Horatio wasn't going to let this go until they had proved or disproved his theory.

Horatio raised an eyebrow, "Robbery might not have been his intent." He stopped at a closet door and opened it up. It held storage shelves filled with blankets, towels and other supplies. He frowned, "Eric? Come over here, please."

Eric walked over, "What is it?"

Horatio crouched down, "Do you smell it?"

Half-closing his eyes, Eric concentrated as he slowly inhaled. He looked over at Horatio, "It smells damp. We're underground in Florida. What's so strange about that?"

"There's no moisture around the walls or floor, yet it's stronger in here."

"The door's been closed, it's going to be more concentrated," Eric pointed out.

"The whole room has been closed in. Did you notice the smell when we first walked in?" Horatio pulled out the storage bins that were sitting on the floor so he could get a better look at the back wall.

Eric shook his head, "There's good ventilation down here. The door kept it from circulating in the closet." He wasn't ready to give up the argument.

Horatio shifted suddenly and then stood up, reaching to the back wall on the left side. Running his hand up and down for a moment, he stopped and looked back at Eric, "Or the smell is coming from another source." He pushed and there was a light click as the back wall swung away.

Monday,

10:40 am

Ryan parked the Hummer and walked into the Coralgates clubhouse. His interviews with Miriam Hotchkiss and Denise Pennington had been short, polite and completely uninformative. It was apparent they were sticking with the company line that the Hennesseys were a practically saint-like couple that no one would ever want to kill. Hell, listening to those two made it sound like the Hennesseys weren't even real. No one was that perfect. Frustrated, Ryan had turned to the country club and been fortunate enough to catch both the golf and tennis pro that Constance took lessons from. They had cautiously agreed to be interviewed.

A quick question to one of the staff pointed him towards the golf pro shop where the young man behind the counter sent him out to the golf cart parking area. He waited while an older man finished talking to a crew of groundskeepers. Once they were dismissed, Ryan walked forward, "Darryl Tallemedge?"

The gentleman smiled, "Yes, are you from Miami-Dade PD?"

Ryan nodded, "Yes sir, Ryan Wolfe. I'm a crime scene investigator." He looked around, "Is there somewhere we can talk?"

"Certainly," Tallemedge gestured towards the patio of the club, "We can sit there, if that's all right?" They settled in a couple of chairs and waved off the waiter who had immediately started towards them. The golf pro leaned back a little, "This is about Constance and Darian?"

Ryan folded his hands, resting them on the table in front of him as he nodded, "It's more about Mrs. Hennessey. She had a golf lesson with you on the Thursday before the murder?"

"Yes," Tallemedge looked confused and a little defensive, "I don't understand what that has to do with anything. She had lessons every week."

Ryan held up a hand, "We know that, Mr. Tallemedge. No one's accusing you. We're looking into the Hennesseys' daily routines to see if anything different might have occurred. Did your lesson with Mrs. Hennessey go normally?"

The man looked slightly mollified, "Pretty much. Constance was in a good mood."

"She's not usually?" Ryan lifted an eyebrow.

Tallemedge shook his head, "No, no, nothing like that. It's just that for the two weeks before that, she'd seemed a little down. She didn't want to talk about it. I figured she'd gotten into it with Darian again."

"They were fighting?" Ryan perked up his ears. This was the first person who'd admitted the Hennesseys weren't the perfect couple.

"Not like you'd think. The Hennesseys weren't screamers." The golf pro shifted uncomfortably, "In public, they always presented a united front because that's what Darian wanted. In private, well, Constance mentioned one time that she'd gotten angry with him over something petty and he turned around and fired her personal assistant and then destroyed her records. She said she would have looked like a complete ass if the girl hadn't shown some moxie and contacted her later to make sure she knew when all her appointments were for the rest of the month."

"This girl have a name?" Ryan leaned forward a little. Maybe he'd just caught a break.

"Ummm, Amanda... Prader... Peters... I'm not sure about the last name, sorry." Tallemadge shrugged apologetically.

"That's okay, Mr. Tallemedge. I'm sure I'll be able to track her down." Ryan looked at his notes again, "Anything else strike you as unusual? Anything within the last year?"

Tallemedge shook his head, "Not really. Most of my attention is on the game, not my clients' personal lives."

"Okay," Ryan stood up and offered his hand, "Thanks for your time. I appreciate the help."

"I don't know if I helped all that much, but I hope you find the bastard that did this. The Hennesseys were good people." Tallemedge shook Wolfe's hand and then headed back towards the pro shop.

Ryan checked his watch and looked around. He still had about fifteen minutes before he met up with Walter Kappel, the tennis pro. Pulling out his cellphone, he dialed Frank Tripp.

- - - - - -

Walter Kappel rolled the tennis ball around in his hands as he considered Ryan's question, "She got a new hairstyle last year, treated herself to a makeover at the Crystal Waters Spa." He smirked slightly, "When these women do something like that, I usually assume they've got something going on the side."

Ryan's eyebrows rose slightly as his gaze sharpened, "Really?"

Kappel held up a hand, "Whoa, it wasn't with me." He looked around the club, "I've got a good gig here. I'm not going to blow it just because some spoiled rich bitch has ants in her pants." He grinned at Ryan, "Look but don't touch - words to live by at the lovely Coralgates Country Club. You might want to check with some of her cronies. She might have let them in on her latest conquest."

"You have any names?"

Walter stared up at the sky while he thought, "Try Bitsy Montgomery and Anna Slocum-Howard. They've been known to tip back a few with Connie after a hard day at the club." He looked back at Ryan, "We done?"

Ryan nodded as he scribbled on his notepad, "Yeah, sure." He looked back up as Kappel rose from the table, "One more thing - would these women be here today?"

Kappel grinned sardonically, "Try the club bar, it's after ten. They're probably mourning Connie by guzzling 12 year-old Scotch and putting it on the Hennesseys' tab."

"Thanks," Ryan finished up his notes and went back to the clubhouse to find the bar. An employee pointed him in the right direction and a quick word with the bartender sent him to a small table towards the back of the room. The two women seated there ignored his presence until he cleared his throat, "Excuse me."

The brunette looked him up and down and arched an eyebrow, "You'll do, sweetie, but lose the sweater vest first. I have standards." Her companion, a redhead with perfectly coifed hair, snickered and took another drink from her glass.

Ryan flushed, his jaw tightening slightly, "My name's Ryan Wolfe. I'm with the Miami-Dade Crime Lab. I'd like to talk to you about Constance Hennessey."

"Oh." The brunette's demeanor changed, "You know, I told Connie to quit playing with fire. She never listened."

Ryan frowned, "Mrs. Hennessey was having an affair?"

The woman leaned back and gave him a incredulous look, "Sweetheart, the question would be when wasn't she having an affair?"

Monday,

1:25 pm

"Hey Frank!" Ryan hurried down the corridor. He'd just gotten back to the lab.

The big man turned around at the sound of his name and gave a quick nod as he waited for Ryan to catch up, "Wolfe."

"Did you have any luck tracking down that builder?"

Frank shook his head, "The 'office' for Oyster Bay Construction is a p.o. box and Wiley's home address is an empty lot next to a church. I've got a BOLO out on the Escalade. If he's driving around, someone's bound to spot him." He put his hands on his hips, "I did come across an interesting coincidence, though."

"What's that?" Ryan asked, containing his frustration about this latest dead-end.

"Wiley's picture matches the photo ID of the contractor who originally finished the Hennesseys' house."

Ryan's eyebrows rose, "You're kidding, so... "

"Either Wiley's our original contractor and he used an alias or the guy's got a twin brother he doesn't know about." Frank concluded. "I checked the records, Wiley's from Miami - he's an only child."

Ryan blew out a breath as he glanced down the corridor, "So Wiley rips off his employees and the Hennesseys and what, a year later, Mrs. Hennessey co-signs the Escalade lease? What the hell was she thinking?"

"Maybe she wasn't thinking, if you know what I mean," Tripp folded his arms. "The guy's not bad looking. It wouldn't be the first time some bored rich socialite decided to have a quick fling with the hired help."

Ryan frowned thoughtfully, "Yeah, you may be more right than you know. I just got an earful from two of her drinking buddies down at the country club. Apparently, Mrs. Hennessey wasn't as happily married as everyone else says. According to them, she's had a string of affairs."

Frank's eyebrows rose as he let out a low whistle, "That would change the playing field. You got any names?"

Ryan shook his head, "First names only and Jackson wasn't one of them. There's no telling if they're aliases or not. She was unfaithful but not stupid."

"Damn." Frank stared at the floor for a moment, "How many are we talking about?"

"Five, that these two women claim to know about," Ryan frowned slightly, "I wonder... "

"What?"

"Do you think Mrs. Hennessey's personal assistant would have known? Have you been able to track her down?" Ryan looked at the detective hopefully.

"Not yet. I did find out that she moved not long after she was fired. No forwarding address. I'm checking with the state employment office to see if she registered for benefits." Frank scowled in frustration, "So none of Mrs. Hennessey's cronies ever saw these guys?"

Ryan shook his head again. Dammit, nothing about this case was easy, "She never brought them to her usual haunts. Her friends only knew what she told them."

"So it's possible these guys were just a figment of her imagination and the only connection to Wiley is her name on a car lease." Frank grumbled in exasperation, "Dammit, we're probably chasing ghosts."

Ryan ran a hand through his hair, "Yeah, I know, but we still need to pursue this. It could be that our killer was a jilted lover."

"Hey, I didn't say I wouldn't look into it. I'm just saying we're probably wasting our time." Frank said testily. "I'll start looking at her credit card receipts. If she wasn't taking them to the regular spots, she had to be going somewhere."

Ryan looked relieved, "I'll give you a hand."

Frank raised an eyebrow, "Damn straight you will. This is your wild goose chase."


	11. Chapter 11

We're nearing the halfway point in this story - there are 25 chapters in all. Thank you all for the reviews. (Abunnymom, it was a pleasant surprise to see your review considering this isn't your fandom. Thanks so much! In case you and cbw were wondering, I've begun the next JAG fic. It will be called Heartstone.) As always, I hope everyone continues to enjoy this endeavor.

Chapter 11

Tuesday,

2:15 pm

Ryan walked into Layout and looked at the photos Eric had spread out across the table, "Man, this is the tunnel?"

"Yeah, can you believe it?" Eric shook his head as he glanced at Wolfe. "The tunnel comes out near the poolhouse, far enough away that the motion detector lights won't pick up any movement. H is certain neither of the Hennesseys knew anything about it."

"Damn, how clueless can you be?" Ryan picked up a picture to study.

Eric shrugged, "The tunnel follows the plumbing out to the poolhouse. The Hennesseys weren't builders, how would they have known the trench was too big? That's assuming they even looked out there."

"I don't suppose you found any weapons stashed out there?" Ryan didn't sound very hopeful. He figured the knife used on Calleigh and the gun used on the Hennesseys were probably resting somewhere on the bottom of the ocean. Working in a seacoast city was frustrating as hell sometimes. If a criminal had the resources and the time, the ocean was a huge black hole for disposing of evidence.

"No," Eric hesitated a moment, "Found some blood drops though. Valera checking them now but they might be too degraded from the moisture in the tunnel."

"So our perp knew enough to clean the panic room but missed the tunnel." Ryan grunted thoughtfully, "Good to know he's not infallible."

"We already knew that. Calleigh's still alive, remember?" Eric snapped. At the look on Wolfe's face, he relented, "Sorry, man, it's just... well, you know."

Ryan shook his head, "My fault, it was a stupid thing to say." He looked at the pictures again and then offered cautiously, "I stopped by to see her for a little bit on my way back from my interview with the Hennesseys' accountant this morning. She seemed like she was feeling better than she did on Sunday." He frowned slightly when Eric snorted, "What? Did I miss something?"

Eric gave him a lop-sided smile, "This is Calleigh we're talking about. According to Alexx, almost the first words she said to H after the attack were 'I'm fine' even though she couldn't get her head off the pillow. You're a CSI, ignore what she wanted you to see. How did she really look?"

Wolfe shifted uncomfortably. His automatic response was usually 'gorgeous' but he wasn't ready to go there yet, and certainly not in front of Delko. Finally, he said, "Tired, actually." He shot a questioning look at Eric, "And sort of relieved to see me, too."

Eric scowled and muttered, "Damn them." Although Calleigh hadn't said a word about it, Delko knew some of the patrolmen assigned to protect her still clung to IAB's version of events and weren't above showing their contempt.

Ryan looked bewildered for a second and then scowled as well, "You've got to be kidding. You're in the clear and that shoots down IAB's stupid theory. What the hell does it take for them to let it go?"

Eric gave a short, bitter laugh, "C'mon Wolfe, you know as well as I do that there are still guys on the force who think women are good for one thing and it's not being a cop. They're not going to let this go just 'cause it's not true. It's better than having to admit that women like Calleigh and Yelina are good at their jobs."

Wolfe let his gaze drop to the table while he muttered a quiet oath. Looking back up at Eric, he asked, "Should we tell Horatio?"

Eric gave him a look, "Not unless you want H to go down there and shoot the guy." Hell, it was all he could do not drop everything and head for the hospital. Knowing that Stetler was still hoping he'd screw up was the only thing that kept him in place. Playing into IAB's hands would upset Calleigh to no end. He took a deep breath. "Who was it?"

Ryan thought for a moment, "Benning. We're just gonna let this go?"

Eric pulled out his cellphone, "Hell no, I'm calling Frank."

Tuesday,

3:00 pm

After a perfunctory knock, Frank Tripp strode into Calleigh's room followed by Officer Ferrara. Giving the blonde a quick nod, he turned to the officer sitting in the corner and crooked a finger at him, "You, with me. Now." Turning, he walked back out of the room without another word. The patrolman scrambled to his feet, directing a brief scowl at Ferrara as he passed her on his way out. Calleigh watched curiously and then said faintly, "Bye, Frank." She turned her attention to the patrolwoman when she heard her chuckle, "Officer Ferrara, right?"

Ferrara nodded, "Margueritte, ma'am. We've met but you were running a fever at the time. I wasn't sure if you'd remember."

"It's Calleigh." She nodded towards the door, "What was that all about?"

Ferrara chuckled again as she followed Calleigh's gaze, "I believe that that chauvinistic pig, Benning, is about to get an attitude adjustment from Detective Tripp. Couldn't happen to a nicer guy." She turned back to look at the blonde and frowned at the expression on the woman's face, "What's that SOB been doing?"

Calleigh shook her head, "Doesn't matter now."

"He's in the minority, you know," Ferrara offered, "and a complete ass." She couldn't imagine having to deal with the kind of rumors that had been floating around. Being somewhat of a skeptic, she'd reserved judgment on what she'd heard figuring the truth would come out eventually. Ferrara had learned enough about Lt. Caine in her time at Miami-Dade PD to doubt that he would have tolerated that sort of behavior from his team. On a whim, after that first shift of guard duty, she'd googled Duquesne and been amazed at the amount of information available. The petite blonde, who looked like she should have been nothing more than arm candy for some rich old man, had a national reputation in ballistics and numerous commendations. One had been for collaring an escaped murderer single-handed. From the number of seminars listed, it was obvious she was also a popular speaker.

The look Ferrara got from Calleigh was patently skeptical. The officer shrugged, "It's the truth, ma'am. A lot of the guys I've talked to lately have decided it was all a crock cooked up by IAB. Word is that Stetler's got it in for CSI. You forget how many patrolmen all of you work with. They've never seen anything to justify what's been said. As a matter of fact, some of them think... " Ferrara broke off suddenly and flushed.

"It's Calleigh," Calleigh repeated patiently, "They think what, Margueritte?"

Ferrara looked at the floor, kicking herself for rattling on, "Um, no offense, but they think Stetler made a move on you and you shot him down so he was looking for payback."

That elicited a short bark of laughter. Calleigh leaned back into the pillows with a wry grin, "Well, I can tell you that one's not true. Rick Stetler has never had the remotest interest in dating me." The sound of the door opening caught both women by surprise. Ferrara reacted quickly, putting herself between the door and Calleigh and drawing her weapon at the same time.

Brenda stood frozen in the doorway, her hand still on the knob. Eyes wide, she looked over at Calleigh, "I think I prefer the swearing."

Tuesday,

7:25 pm

Eric tapped on the door and then stepped inside, checking with the officer on duty before walking up to the bedside. He sat down carefully, trying not to jostle the bed and its occupant. Calleigh was apparently asleep and while he was disappointed, Eric didn't want to disturb her. Absently, he fingered the envelope he'd brought with him. It had copies of their latest progress with the case. So far, Calleigh hadn't been able to suggest anything that they hadn't already done but it still felt good to hear that she concurred with their approach.

He looked up at her when he felt the bed shift and smiled slightly at the pair of green eyes that were regarding him blearily, "Hi."

"Hey," Her voice was still rough from sleep, "How long have you been here?"

"Not long, tough day?"

"Mostly boring," she shook her head and then grimaced as she started to push herself upright.

"Stop that," Eric admonished mildly as he reached for the controls. He ignored the look she gave him as he raised the head of the bed. The woman could teach stubbornness to stones. "What parts weren't boring?"

"Ryan stopped by," Calleigh smiled at the memory. Wolfe was a sweet guy who'd been charmingly nervous about visiting her. Obviously he hadn't been quite comfortable seeing her outside of CSI. She enjoyed working with the young man. He'd had some missteps here and there that had earned Eric's animosity but he also had a tremendous amount of potential.

Eric snorted slightly, "Should I be jealous?" He was only half-kidding. He and Wolfe were still having their ups and downs. Ironically, it had been better these last few days. They were united in their desire to nail Calleigh's assailant.

Calleigh's grin turned mischievous, "If you'd like."

Eric contemplated her silently for a few moments before smiling again, "I have faith in your integrity."

"Land sakes, you certainly know how to turn a girl's head," Calleigh leaned back against the pillows as her accent deepened.

"I've seen 'the girl' with an automatic rifle," Delko retorted still smiling, "It's not integrity that worries me."

Calleigh chuckled and then nodded towards the envelope in Eric's hand, "That the latest?"

"Yeah," Eric opened it up and handed her the sheets as he moved up closer.

Calleigh rubbed her eyes and then re-focused on the report, "Any luck finding that builder?"

"Not yet," Delko shook his head. "For a construction firm, he doesn't work much. Frank's got a BOLO out for Mr. Wiley on suspicion of using undocumented workers. It won't hold him for long. Any decent attorney can get him off with a fine."

"Well, he's probably aware that Immigration is looking for him. Maybe he's working under another name." Calleigh frowned slightly. Horatio had shown her the driver's license photo of Wiley the other day but it hadn't jarred any memories loose. As far as she could tell, she'd never seen the guy before.

"It's possible but there isn't any evidence to support that theory," Eric frowned as well. "We've got Constance Hennessey's name on the car lease and Frank's found evidence that she was bankrolling the construction company but Wiley could easily claim it was just a business investment on her part. Ryan's interviews with Mrs. Hennessey's friends all indicate she was having an affair at the time of her death, but no one actually saw her with anyone, much less Wiley. The credit card receipts aren't telling us anything. We're guessing she paid cash if they went out together, so there's no way of finding restaurants or clubs."

"And no way of tracking down eyewitnesses," Calleigh finished with a sigh. She raised an eyebrow at Eric, "This thing sounds more like it was run as a covert op than a love affair. It seems odd that Constance would tell her friends after taking such care not to be traced."

"Bragging rights and deniability," Delko murmured slowly. He looked over at Calleigh, "Could be she was afraid of her husband's reaction if he found out."

"Or her lover was," Calleigh replied. It was frustrating as hell not knowing if this was the guy that had tried to kill her - twice. "Makes you wonder how he's paying the bills now, doesn't it? If Mrs. Hennessey was supporting him, why would he kill the golden goose? It doesn't make sense."

"Maybe she was getting ready to break it off and he figured he had nothing to lose." Eric tapped the folder absently. Theories without evidence to back them up were irritating to say the least. If only Calleigh could remember what'd she'd found...

"I'm sorry."

Calleigh's soft voice held a world of regret. Eric looked over at her in surprise, "What?"

"It's my fault we don't have this guy already." She rubbed at her temples and glanced away, unable to look him in the eye, "I should be your best lead and I can't even remember what the Hennesseys' house looks like."

"Calleigh." He waited patiently until she finally looked at him. It was like a physical blow seeing the guilt and self-recrimination in her eyes. Eric leaned forward and covered her hand with his own, "Listen to me, we're gonna figure this out. It's not your fault you were attacked. I'd much rather deal with your memory loss. I know I couldn't deal with losing you."

He reached over and plucked a few tissues from the box on the nightstand and handed them silently to Calleigh as her eyes became suspiciously bright. "Thanks," she muttered, dabbing at her eyes before leaning back into the pillows and fixing her gaze on the ceiling. "I just wish there was something I could do. I feel so useless."

Both Eric's eyebrows rose and then he smiled, "Useless is the last word anyone would use to describe you." He shuffled through the papers, "Look, why don't we run through this again? We know Wiley was the contractor who finished the house but not according to the original plans. Among other changes, he managed to talk the Hennesseys into adding a panic room to which he put a secret access. Not long after the house was complete, he vanishes from sight with both Immigration and Darian Hennessey looking for him. Less than a year later, Oyster Bay Construction comes into being with financial help from Constance Hennessey and the owner is none other than Jackson Wiley, our missing contractor."

Calleigh frowned, "That was quite a slap in the face to Darian, wasn't it? This guy bilks them out of a bunch of cash and then Constance turns around and sets him up in another construction company. She must have hated her husband."

"Or been head over heels with Wiley," Eric concluded. He gave her a sly look, "I hear women in love do crazy things."

She arched an eyebrow and chuckled softly, "I'll be sure to let you know."

- - - - - - - -

Thursday,

10:35 am

Dr. Staniforth read over Calleigh's chart and then smiled at his patient, "Everything's looking good, Calleigh. Brenda's pleased with your progress. How do you feel?"

"Ready to get out of here," Calleigh smiled back at her doctor. She liked Staniforth, he was approachable and had a surprising tendency to listen. Unfortunately, he was also smart enough not to take her word exclusively on how she was feeling. Alexx had obviously clued him in on his patient's propensity to ignore anything less than debilitating pain.

"I imagine you are," Staniforth answered dryly and then raised an eyebrow, "How do you feel?"

Calleigh sighed, "It hurts when I move but it's more of a dull ache." She couldn't help the disappointment that colored her tone, "I'm still stuck in here, aren't I?" God, how she hated hospitals and everything about them - the boredom, bland rooms, pervasive antiseptic smell, miserable food and complete lack of privacy.

Staniforth eyed her, "For now." He smiled again suddenly, "Tomorrow, however, you're going to have to decide how you want to get home." His grin grew wider as first surprise and then a brilliant smile suffused his patient's face. As beautiful as she was, when she smiled like that, she was absolutely devastating. He let himself enjoy the view for a few more seconds before looking back down at the chart, "You realize it will be on an outpatient basis, right?"

Calleigh nodded, "Brenda told me to expect about a month of physical therapy." She was more or less resigned to that fact. She still couldn't stretch much without a sharp protest from the healing muscles. At least all her internal organs were back to functioning at normal levels and walking was no longer an adventure - provided she took it slow. "How long before I can go back to work?"

"Give it a week before you try and then it should only be part-time. Most of your body's resources are going to be concentrating on the healing process so you're going to tire easily." Staniforth gave her a stern look, "Absolutely, positively no field work. Stay in the office. Try to remember to take it slow and easy. I don't want you to overdo it and wind up back in here." He grinned suddenly, "Don't take this the wrong way, but I'd rather not see you again."

She grinned back, "Believe me, I'd rather not see you either."

"Well, now that we've established our mutual disdain for each other," Staniforth chuckled, "how about rolling up on your side so I can admire my handiwork?"

Obediently, Calleigh turned on her side, keeping her jaw clenched as he poked and manipulated the area around the wound. It was sore as hell but that did nothing to dampen her mood. She was going home.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Friday,

8:30 am

"H!" Eric appeared in the doorway of Trace where Horatio and Ryan were sifting through the evidence of a shooting in a popular restaurant. "We've got a lead on Jackson Wiley's location."

Horatio's head snapped up, "Good work, Eric. Are uniforms on the way?"

Eric nodded, nearly bouncing on his heels with impatience. It was a distinct possibility that Wiley was the guy who'd killed the Hennesseys and attacked Calleigh, "Yeah, Frank's with them."

"Let's go, then," Horatio glanced over at Ryan, "Mr. Wolfe, you've got this?"

Ryan nodded and waved a hand, "You bet. Go catch that bastard."


	12. Chapter 12

Here's the next installment. The ride's about to get very bumpy...

Thank you to my faithful reviewers, elinslin and shel2005 - always nice to know someone is reading. MGipp, it's good to hear from you, too. I hope you all continue to enjoy this.

Chapter 12

Friday,

9:25 am

Alexx looked over at her passenger and grinned, "How're you doing, sweetie?"

Calleigh smiled. She had the car window down and was leaning back in the car seat with her eyes closed, "Great. You have no idea how wonderful fresh air smells."

"Even hot, humid Miami air?" Alexx couldn't help chuckling. If Calleigh had been a cat, she would have been purring.

Calleigh cracked an eye open and raised an eyebrow, "Especially hot, humid air. Don't forget I'm a bayou girl at heart." She paused for a moment, "Thanks for giving me a ride, Alexx. I appreciate it." She didn't bother going into why her father hadn't volunteered to escort her. He'd finally come back to the hospital to see her and they'd wound up in an argument over her profession. She knew how badly he'd been scared but she'd been floored to find that he'd joined ranks with her mother, going so far as to call his ex-wife so they could present a united front. Despite frequent declarations of reconciliation, those two hadn't truly agreed on anything since their divorce. The one thing her father had always done was support her career choice. The reversal felt like a complete betrayal. They hadn't spoken since that night.

"What? You think we were going to let you take a cab? Not a chance." Alexx pretended to sound affronted. "You know Eric wanted to be the one to pick you up but Frank brought in that builder they've been looking for. Horatio wanted Eric to process the car while he and Frank questioned the guy."

"I know," Calleigh nodded slightly, closing her eyes again. "He called to explain and say he was sorry." She was sorry about it too, but the relief that this nightmare might soon be over was ample compensation. She wanted her life to go back to normal.

"Did he now?" Alexx managed a very credible tone of surprised inquiry.

Calleigh opened both eyes and turned her head to grin at her friend, "You know he did, so you can drop the innocent act."

Alexx waved a hand, "All right, fine. So dish, girl, how is it with you two?"

"Alexx!" Calleigh rolled her eyes, "I've been stuck in a hospital with Cop Du Jour in constant attendance. There isn't anything 'with' us." Thank god she was finally free of the constant police presence. Being in a fishbowl, even if it was for her own protection, had been wearing on her last nerve. Both Horatio and Frank had reluctantly agreed to release the protection detail now that she was out of the hospital. That didn't mean she couldn't expect patrol cars cruising by her condo every fifteen minutes but at least she wouldn't have to put up with strangers in her home. That a radio car was following right behind them now wasn't a surprise at all.

"Uh-huh." Alexx pulled up at a stop sign and took the opportunity to give the blonde a meaningful stare. "I happen to know for a fact how resourceful Eric can be... " Whatever else she was going to say was lost when there was a screech of tires, followed by a double bang as the car lurched forward. "Dammit!" Alexx swore softly and looked over at Calleigh, "You okay?"

Calleigh nodded silently, trying not to grimace. That jolt had sent pain flaring all the way through - just another reminder that she wasn't anywhere near 100% yet.

Alexx looked in the rearview mirror, practically growling in exasperation, "Would you believe some SUV hit the patrol car? How much do you want to bet there was a cellphone involved in this? You'd think by now people would realize it's physically impossible to focus on two things at once." She glared at Calleigh who'd had the temerity to smile during her tirade. "You stay put while I talk to the officer and get that idiot's insurance information and then we'll get out of here."

She jumped a little when the patrolman suddenly appeared at the driver's side window. He looked anxiously into the car, "Are you ladies okay?" He looked relieved when Alexx assured him they were both fine. Glancing up and down the street, he gestured towards an empty parking lot nearby, "Let's move this over there. I don't want to keep blocking the intersection." Getting a nod from Alexx, he turned and gestured sharply at the other driver and then walked back to his car.

Alexx shook her head, "Somebody's in a mess of trouble." She put the car in gear and, after checking for cross traffic, headed across the intersection to the parking lot. Pulling into a space, she put the car in park and looked over at Calleigh, "I'll be right back. This shouldn't take too long." She got out and moved around to the back of the car, glancing over to see the other driver leaning down by the radio car to talk to officer. Alexx turned back to survey the damage. It didn't look too bad. The bumper was a total loss but it had done its job protecting the rest of the car. She turned again as she heard footsteps behind her and was surprised to see it was the SUV's driver. She tried to look past him towards the patrol car, "Where's the officer?"

"He's... indisposed." The man smiled nastily and shifted so she could see a blood covered stiletto in his hand. Alexx's eyes widened in shock as her eyes darted again to the patrol car. She took a step back and then froze when the man slid his other hand out of his windbreaker revealing a small pistol.

"I don't understand... what do you want?" Alexx stammered, staring at the gun. She couldn't help trembling. The ME usually dealt with the aftermath of violence, being an active participant was completely outside her experience.

A smirk chased across his features to be replaced by cold amusement, "I want a lot of things, but I'll settle for you and Duquesne. Get her out. Now."

Alexx stiffened. Dear god, Horatio and Frank had the wrong man.

Scowling, the man took a step forward, "Move, dammit, or you can join the cop." He followed behind as she turned and walked towards the passenger side door. He stopped near the back fender and motioned her onward.

Alexx took a deep breath and unlatched the door. Calleigh's eyes popped open as she looked up at the ME in surprise. She'd been taking advantage of the delay to rest a little. Her stamina was pretty much at rock bottom after nearly a week and a half in the hospital and the effects from the sudden jarring of the collision had served as a confirmation that Dr. Staniforth had been correct about her not returning to work any time soon. Her surprise faded and her stomach knotted at the expression on Alexx's face, "What is it? What's wrong?"

"Baby, you need to get out of the car," Alexx managed to look apologetic and scared at the same time.

The knot in her stomach grew larger and Calleigh vainly wished she'd had a sidearm with her. They were in trouble, that much was clear. Not knowing what else to do, she grabbed Alexx's cellphone off the console and pushed it into her friend's hand as she nodded slowly, "I'll need some help."

Alexx shot a quick look at the man who made a 'hurry up' gesture with the gun. Palming the phone, she leaned in to help Calleigh swing her legs to the outside of the car. Reaching back in, she positioned herself so the blonde could brace against her as she stood up. Calleigh gave her a slight nod as she rose, making sure the view was blocked as Alexx tucked the phone in the waistband of her slacks and covered it with her blouse. A few seconds and a few muttered imprecations later, Calleigh was standing up and leaning heavily on the car door.

Silently, she eyed the man with the gun and he gave her a facetious salute before nodding towards his SUV, "Move, ladies."

There was nothing they could do except comply. With Alexx providing support, they slowly made their way to the SUV. The man fell in behind them, keeping a careful watch on their surroundings. Calleigh delayed as much as she could, exaggerating her dependence on Alexx on the off-chance that someone, anyone, might happen by and notice them. They reached the side of the SUV and Alexx looked back over her shoulder to see what he wanted next. The man pointed with his chin towards the rear door, "Back seat."

Calleigh let go of Alexx and braced herself on the SUV as the ME opened the backdoor. If nothing else, she could at least leave a couple of incriminating palm prints. Breathing heavily, Calleigh never noticed the man quickly closing the distance. The hard blow to her back was the last thing she expected. Her vision grayed out and with a strangled cry, she hit the side of the SUV and slid sideways to the ground as her legs buckled.

Alexx spun at the sound and caught Calleigh halfway down. She staggered a little, the blonde was only half-conscious and dead weight. She glared angrily at the man, her earlier fear forgotten, "What the hell did you do that for?"

He smiled, showing even, white teeth, "That was her reward for trying to be clever - something you'd better remember." He waved at the back seat, "Get her in there and close the door. You're going to drive." The man watched impassively as Alexx wrestled Calleigh into the SUV and shut the door. He pointed to the other side of truck, "Get in from the passenger side. I'll be right behind you." He followed her around and then climbed in after her. Settling in the passenger seat, he turned sideways so he could see into the back seat, "Try anything stupid and I'll shoot her - starting at the knees."

Alexx contained a shiver as she nodded and started the SUV. She looked over at the man, "Where?"

He gave her a predatory smile, "Blue Cove Marina."

Thirty minutes later, she had followed his directions to a dingy, run-down dock. 'Marina' was too grandiose a term for it. There were three boats occupying the slips. All had seen better days. The man pointed to the farthest one, "Pull up to that one." Once Alexx had parked the SUV, the man reached over and pulled the keys out of the ignition. He gestured with the pistol, "Get out, same way you got in." He backed out of the truck and waited as Alexx followed, the gun held once more out of sight. He tilted his head towards the back, "Get Duquesne out."

Alexx opened the door, "Calleigh?" She was relieved to see the blonde awake and looking more alert. She'd had no idea how badly the man had hurt her friend. "You need to get out. Can you manage?"

Calleigh nodded slowly, the pain from the blow had subsided leaving the older ache from the wound. Gritting her teeth, she pushed herself off the seat and began backing out. Soon enough she was standing outside the SUV, Alexx providing a shoulder for support. Calleigh chanced a surreptitious look around and felt her heart sink a little more. The place was depressingly deserted.

The man grinned, "Private, isn't it?" He pointed to the boat, "Get on board."

The two women moved slowly towards the dock. Calleigh turned her head slightly and murmured, "I want you to run, Alexx. Whatever happens, don't stop and don't listen."

Alexx's eyes widened in shock. She whispered furiously, "Calleigh, no!"

Calleigh continued as though she hadn't heard, her voice curiously devoid of emotion, "I can only give you one chance and it probably won't be long. Don't blow it." She began slowing her pace as they drew closer to the dock. When they reached the edge, she came to a complete standstill, resisting Alexx's efforts to move them forward.

"What are you doing? Move!" Angered at the delay, the man moved closer.

Calleigh shook her head, "I don't like boats." She half-closed her eyes, concentrating on the man's presence. She had to do this right if Alexx was to have any chance at all. She knew with a chill certainty that if they went aboard that boat, there was little chance either of them would get off alive. She felt him move closer still and then it was time. Letting go of Alexx, she spun hard, driving her elbow into the kidnapper's midsection. As he doubled over, she continued to turn and launched a fist at his head, throwing herself behind the punch to get as much force as possible. The man staggered back with a howl of pain and Calleigh took a split second to rasp out 'Run!' before throwing herself at the man again. This was about to end and not in her favor. He was larger and stronger. Adrenalin could only do so much and her strength was ebbing fast.

Alexx had stood frozen when Calleigh launched her initial attack but the blonde's desperate 'Run!' broke through her paralysis. Suddenly, her feet were moving and she was sprinting as hard as she could away from the boat, the kidnapper and Calleigh. Her heart was thundering in her ears, making it easier to ignore the yells and curses, but the sharp report of a pistol shot instantly followed by the hissing passage of a 9mm slug had her veering wildly to the side. A second shot sounded, closely followed by a third. Alexx veered again, stumbled, fell, scrambled back to her feet and finally dodged between two storage buildings. She ran down the length of one, turning the corner of a third before stopping and leaning against wall.

Panting for breath, Alexx bent down, resting her hands on her knees. Gym workouts did nothing to prepare one for a terror-filled dash complete with bullets flying about. She put a hand to what she thought was a stitch in her side and got the shock of her life when it felt wet. Pulling her hand away, Alexx stared numbly at the blood dripping off until her brain finally caught up with what her body already knew. Oh god, she'd been shot. She sank to the ground feeling faint.

Alexx closed her eyes and put her head down, taking short, even breaths. Apparently, awareness that she had been wounded was all it took to actually start feeling the pain. It took a little while before she realized something else was digging into her. The cellphone! Calleigh was depending on her - she needed to call for help. Pulling it out, she flipped it open, noting with relief that the signal was strong. Scrolling down her speed dial list, Alexx punched the number for Horatio and waited anxiously while it rang.


	13. Chapter 13

Here's the next chapter. Thanks elislin, shel2005 and the rest of you for the reviews. It's always nice to hear from readers.

Chapter 13

Friday

10:12 am

"You've been a hard man to find, Wiley," Frank Tripp folded his arms and glared at the man seated on the other side of the table. Wiley's attitude had been grating on him since the moment they brought the contractor in.

Jackson Wiley gave the detective a half smile while raising his hands, the picture of confidence, "Perhaps your detecting skills aren't what they used to be. I've been around." He'd been nervous when he saw Tripp, but it was apparent the detective didn't recognize him from that brief encounter at the hospital. Not that it mattered, he had an ace in the hole. Mikey had promised him that he'd fix it so the police wouldn't dare hold him for long and Mikey always made good on his promises.

"So you have," Horatio stared at the man from under half-hooded eyes, then tapped the folder in front of him, "We have a witness that places you at the Alverez crime scene. Would you care to explain?"

Jackson hesitated for a split-second and then gave an easy smile, "I'm not surprised. He and I knew each other back in the day. I was in the neighborhood last week and dropped in to say hello." Wiley leaned forward, looking sincere, "I assure you, Tom was alive when I left."

Horatio smiled slightly, "You say that like he was dead."

Wiley stared at him, quickly schooling the shock from his features, "Well, he is... isn't he? I mean, I saw it in the newspaper." He leaned back, arrogance firmly in place again, "Tom was a nice guy. I hope you catch his killer."

"I intend to," Horatio's smile was anything but pleasant. That was one lie Wiley had just been caught in. Horatio hadn't specifically mentioned murder and the papers hadn't released the name of the deceased pending notification of relatives. He turned to another page in the file, "How well did you know Constance Hennessey?"

He was interrupted by a tap on the door. A patrolman stuck his head in, "Lieutenant? You've got a call over at Reception. They said it was important."

"All right," Horatio glanced over at Frank who nodded and slid into a chair. He gave Wiley a look, "I'll be back."

* * * * * * * *

Eric handed off the evidence packets from Wiley's SUV to Aaron in Trace. Shrugging out of his lab coat, he headed towards the interrogation rooms. It would be a while before any results were known but he hoped they'd prove Wiley was their man. It would mean Calleigh was safe at last. He reached the reception area in time to see Horatio approaching from the opposite direction and frowned slightly. What could be more important than putting Jackson Wiley away? His stomach knotted when he saw Horatio abruptly straighten after picking up the phone. Hurrying over to stand next to the Lieutenant, he unabashedly listened to Horatio's side of the conversation. What he heard had the blood draining from his face.

* * * * * * * *

Valera stared at the results in disbelief. Looking up, she saw Wolfe striding down the corridor and raced out to catch him. "Ryan!"

He stopped and turned towards her, frowning slightly at the urgency in her tone, "Hey Max, what's wrong?"

"The DNA sample from your suspect. I can put him in the Alverez house but not in the Hennesseys'."

"Okay, well, that's something," Ryan glanced away in frustration, he'd been sure this was the guy. Horatio wasn't going to be pleased. Valera was still standing there when he glanced back and he looked at her in confusion, "Was there something else?"

"I'll say. Look at the markers," she held out the page for his inspection.

Ryan studied the printout and then his eyebrows rose in surprise, "They're related?"

Valera pointed at the sheet again, "Not just related, they're fraternal twins."

"What?" Ryan stared at the figures, "You're sure about this?" He saw the look she gave him and raised a hand, "Sorry, of course you are." He rubbed his jaw as he reviewed what he knew of their suspect, "According to the records, Jackson Wiley was the only child of Richard and Stephanie Wiley, both deceased. How the hell did..." Ryan shook his head, "Is there any way to identify his twin?"

Valera shook her head, "Not unless he's in the system and I've already checked. There's no way to know how they became separated. If you want to find his brother you'll have to ask him."

"And if his brother's really involved in this, he probably won't say a word." Ryan frowned, "Damn." He looked around, "I'd better tell Horatio. Thanks." Heading towards the interrogation rooms, he was surprised to see both Horatio and Eric standing by the reception desk. Ryan slowed down as he drew closer, worry making a sudden appearance. Judging from the tension radiating off both men, whoever Horatio was on the phone with hadn't had good news. He made it to the front desk just as the Lieutenant hung up. The look on Caine's face was absolutely thunderous but it was Delko's expression that scared him. Ryan swallowed nervously, "What's wrong?"

"Everything," was Horatio's terse reply. It might as well have been a starting gun because that one word launched Eric towards the interrogation rooms like a guided missile. Horatio spun on his heel and headed after him. Mystified, Ryan hurried after them both.

Eric hit the interrogation room at full stride, not slowing down as he made a beeline for Wiley. Ryan just had time to notice the look on Frank's face as he listened to his cellphone before Delko had Wiley pinned against the back wall with a forearm across the man's throat. Ryan and Horatio leapt forward to grab the enraged Cuban from one side while Frank snapped his phone shut and hurried over to latch on from the other. Together, they pried the infuriated man off a gasping Jackson Wiley. "Dammit, Eric, what the hell are you doing?!" Frank growled, still hanging on.

Wiley slid down the wall, holding his throat. From the floor, he jabbed a finger at Delko, "I want to press charges! That lunatic just tried to kill me!"

"Shut up!" snapped Frank, "You fell down and he was helping you up." When it looked like Wiley was going to say something else, Tripp gave him a ferocious scowl, "Open your mouth again and I'll be the one helping you up."

Panting now, Eric shook his head and indicated Horatio. He stopped struggling and the other men cautiously released their hold.

"I just received a phone call from a man telling me to drop Mr. Wiley as a suspect," Horatio ground out, pinning Wiley with a laser glare, "If I don't, Calleigh's going to die."

Ryan stared at his Lieutenant in shock. Frank took a deep breath, "I just got a call from dispatch. They found the officer assigned to follow Alexx and Calleigh in a deserted parking lot - stabbed to death. Alexx's car is empty. Yelina has the call out, she's on her way." Frank hesitated slightly and then plunged ahead, "Do you know if... "

"She was alive, Frank," was the clipped response. Horatio couldn't bring himself to go any further. It was bad enough that Eric had heard it. Calleigh's stubborn streak had cost her and he didn't know how badly.

Ryan finally found his voice, a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, "What about Alexx?"

Horatio shook his head, never taking his eyes off of Wiley, "The man didn't mention her." He had yet to let himself dwell on the ramifications of that. It was going to require some privacy, Alexx was one of his oldest friends.

Wiley picked himself up off the floor and straightened his clothes. He looked at the other men coolly, "Well, gentlemen, if you'll excuse me." He froze when Eric took a single, menacing step towards him and looked nervously at Horatio, "Are you crazy? Call him off. You know what will happen if I don't leave here."

"You're not leaving," Frank looked as menacing as Eric. "You're going to tell us where the hell your partner has Calleigh Duquesne."

"You mean his twin brother," Ryan put in. If the circumstances hadn't been so serious, he might have been amused by the identical looks of surprise from all four men.

Horatio finally took his gaze off Wiley and turned to stare at Ryan, "Twins?"

"Fraternal twins," Ryan clarified, "Valera picked up on it." He nodded at their suspect, "His brother's DNA was at the Henneseey crime scene."

"You sure about this?" Frank was looking skeptical. He jerked a thumb at Wiley, "According to public records, he has no siblings."

Ryan raised an eyebrow at a now alarmed looking Wiley, "Someone must have messed with them. Foster homes or adoption, obviously, and there's no telling where his twin is. I'd say they managed to keep in touch."

"Yes, they have, haven't they?" Horatio put his hands on his hips as Delko began advancing slowly towards Wiley, "And you're going to tell me where your brother is right now."

Wiley backed up until he hit the wall and then glared desperately at Tripp and Wolfe, "You can't let him do anything to me! It's police brutality! I'll sue!"

Tripp jerked a thumb over his shoulder at the patrolman by the door, "You, out." Once the officer had left, he looked over at Ryan, "I need a cup of coffee. How about you?"

Ryan nodded uncertainly, still watching Horatio and Eric. He couldn't quite pull off the same aplomb that the older detective had. He let Tripp guide him out of the interrogation room and a little way down the corridor. Tripp's controlled demeanor vanished as soon as he left Wiley's sight. Angrily, he opened his cellphone and soon was filling Yelina in on the latest developments. As soon as he snapped the phone shut, Tripp saw the look on the young man's face. His scowl deepened, "What?"

"We shouldn't have left," Ryan braced as Tripp glared at him. The big man was an expert at scaring the hell out of people but Wolfe was determined to have his say. "I know it's about Calleigh and Alexx but we can't just let Horatio and Eric break the law. That makes us as bad as Wiley."

Frank stared at him for a few long seconds and then folded his arms, "You must not think much of your lieutenant." He tilted his head slightly as Ryan spluttered a denial, "What the hell makes you think Horatio's going to let Eric touch that guy?" At Ryan's incredulous look, he shook his head, "Man, you don't have to put hands on someone to scare the piss out of 'em. Horatio's got it down to a fine art. That guy's gonna need a dry cleaner, not an EMT."

They both turned when Horatio came barreling out of the interrogation room with Eric close behind. Frank took a step forward, "He told you?"

Horatio slowed down a fraction, "No, Alexx did. Blue Cove Marina. Eric's with me. Frank, Mr. Wolfe..."

Frank already had his cellphone out, "On it."

Eric raced out of the building, hot on Horatio's heels. He just managed to throw himself into the passenger side of the Hummer before Horatio was peeling out of the parking garage. Caine glanced over at Eric, "Pull up the GPS and tell me the fastest way to Blue Cove Marina. It's in South Miami. Then call Ryan, tell him to contact the Coast Guard and have them shut down the area around the marina. This guy gets to open water and we'll never find Calleigh."

Delko nodded, typing in the info on the GPS while fumbling for his cellphone. The rage was gone, leaving numbness in its wake. From Horatio's phrasing, it was clear the Lieutenant thought that Cal might already be dead. How could he be so calm? Realization finally broke through and Eric clenched his jaw against the sudden nausea. Calleigh's death was a best case scenario. This psycho wanted her for something else and it didn't take a genius to figure it out. Taking a deep breath, he kept one hand braced on the dash as he punched in Ryan's number. Horatio was driving like a man possessed. Once Eric had connected with Ryan and given him a terse rundown of what was going on, he snapped the phone shut and looked over at Horatio. Unable to talk about his true fear, Delko focused on his other concern, "Alexx got away?"

Horatio gave a short, sharp nod, "Calleigh told her to run and then jumped the guy."

"You're kidding," Eric stared at his lieutenant, feeling a curious juxtaposition of pride and fear. What had that defiance cost her?

A sliver of a smile appeared, "I'm not, you know she's been itching for a shot at this SOB." He became grim again, "Call the paramedics and have them meet us. Alexx didn't get away clean."

Despite the speed with which Horatio was traveling, it was still the longest ride Eric had ever been on. He kept his eyes on the screen, calling out the directions. Less than twenty-five minutes later, they were pulling into the marina. Two radio cars were already there, their lights flashing. An SUV was parked at the far slip with its doors open. One patrolman was on board the next boat in line, while the other officer kept watch from the dock. Horatio pulled up behind the closest police car and both men got out, their weapons drawn. The officer looked back at them and shook his head with a frown, "No one's here so far but it looks like there's some blood on the dock."

Stomach churning, Eric could only nod as he gazed out across the water. Finally, he glanced back towards Horatio. The Lieutenant was striding away from the dock. Eric holstered his weapon and jogged after him. Catching up, he called, "H?"

Horatio didn't lessen his speed, nodding towards the series of storage sheds, "If Alexx was running, those buildings were her only cover."

Eric gave a sharp nod in acknowledgment and veered off, "I'll start from the far side and meet up with you."

Reaching the corner of the first building, Horatio slowed to a stop and peered cautiously around. Seeing it was clear, he hurried down the corridor, his senses alert for anything. He came to a quick halt as Eric appeared around the far side. The young man shook his head and Horatio resumed moving. In the distance, he could hear more sirens wailing. Reaching a break in the buildings, he looked up the aisle and froze. Turning his head, he bellowed, "Over here!" and then he was sprinting up the aisle to the crumpled figure in the grass.

Holstering his pistol as he reached her side, Horatio dropped to his knees beside the ME. "Alexx? Sweetheart? Can you hear me?" His fingers sought out the pulse point on her neck and he breathed a sigh of relief at the steady thump.

Friday,

10:35 am

Calleigh slowly opened her eyes and tried not to groan. Gritting her teeth, she took inventory of her situation. To say it wasn't good would be the granddaddy of understatements. She was obviously in the cabin of the boat. It was dim, stuffy and breathlessly hot. The bastard had her securely trussed to a chair that was bolted to the cabin floor. From the awkward position she was tied in, it was also obvious the guy was still pissed. That was one small victory to savor, he was going to have a beauty of shiner and Alexx had apparently made a successful escape. Things had gotten hazy after that, at least until the guy had tried to make a deal with Horatio.

Actually, considering how that had gone, Calleigh was surprised to have woken up at all. She'd fully expected to be thrown off the dock attached to a spare anchor. Horatio had justly demanded proof that she was still alive and she had stubbornly refused to say a word. That had lasted until the son of a bitch had yanked out a ballpoint pen out of his jacket pocket and petulantly jammed it into the side of her leg. She'd screamed bloody murder and promptly fainted. It still hurt like hell.

Calleigh shifted a little and hissed softly. He had tied her wrists behind her back and then lashed them to the top of the chairback, straining her shoulders and back as it forced her to lean forward. The almost healed wound was a constant ache now. Other muscles were protesting and every bruise was making its presence felt. There was a wire snugly tied in a loop around her neck and fastened to a lower support, its clear intent to keep her head down and prevent any relief from the strain on her back. She tested it carefully and found that while it didn't tighten and choke her, it would dig in painfully if she made any serious effort to straighten up. A leather strap fastened like a seatbelt kept her firmly in place. Her shoes were gone and each ankle had been tied to a chair leg. She was effectively immobilized. Calleigh took a careful breath and tried to beat down the fear. She'd seen enough deviant behavior as a CSI to recognize the portents of this level of restraint.

Gradually, she became aware that the engines were slowing and shivered involuntarily. Being unable to see much beyond what was right in front of her, it was left to her imagination on how the rest of this journey would go. God help her, if she hadn't already been unable to move, the gut-wrenching terror might have frozen her in place. It didn't take a genius to know what was probably awaiting her. Calleigh closed her eyes for a moment, trying to get past the emotional turmoil so she could think.

She needed to ready for any opportunity to escape even though there seemed to be little chance of that happening. She could only hope that Alexx had gotten through to Horatio and he was on his way. This guy needed to be caught before he decided to clean up loose ends. While Calleigh knew without a doubt that Horatio would see to it that the ME and her family remained safe, she had no illusions about her own survival. On the open water, her kidnapper would have plenty of warning when the Coast Guard or police showed up and then she'd be dead. It wouldn't take long for him to pitch her overboard. If he did it while on the run, it'd be tough locating her body. Of course, Eric and Horatio wouldn't stop until they found her and that, in itself, was horrible.

"You're awake. Enjoying the ride?" Calleigh tensed. Wrapped up in her misery, she hadn't heard him approach. He crouched down and poked her in the side with a finger, making her flinch, "I asked you a question."

"Go to hell," she rasped out.

The man laughed, "Defiant, I like that. Of course, it was also rather rude," he continued conversationally. "I don't like rude women." He put a hand on her lower back and pushed down, making her gasp in pain. "I think you should apologize." He let up after a few seconds, "Well?... No?... Alright." He reached down, grabbed her wounded leg and squeezed, smiling as her entire body jerked in response. When she still wouldn't speak, he dug his hand in, increasing the pressure until tears were streaming down her face. He leaned in, "Say it." Finally, he heard a choked 'Sorry' and released his hold with a grin of triumph. He put his mouth close to her ear and whispered, "That was easy, wasn't it? I knew you could do it." She jerked her head away and bit back a cry as the wire dug in, stopping her movement. He reached out and trailed a blood-covered finger lightly through the sweat that beginning to run down her face and neck. The man's smile grew wider as she hit the limits of the restraints and still struggled to avoid his touch. He leaned in once more, "We're going to play a game soon, Ms. Duquesne, and you know what? We're both going to win." He reached towards her again so he could watch her try to evade him and chuckled quietly. The conditions were nearly perfect but he still had a few things to take care of first.

Straightening up, he casually wiped his hand on her shirt and then cautiously felt the increasingly tender area around his eye. He still owed her for that. She was a hellion, no doubt about it, but that would make his victory that much sweeter. Like the Marine Corps of old, he would break her down and then rebuild her as his perfect woman. Impatient to get started, he planned to drop anchor in a little-traveled area. He wasn't foolish enough to trust the autopilot while he began his work. It would be the height of irony if he ran into someone through carelessness and pulled the Coast Guard down on himself. Turning, he walked back to the bridge to plot his course. He was headed for the Inlet and international waters and figured on leap-frogging his way there with a judicious number of stops. Originally, he'd planned on a straight run but the temptation Duquesne presented was just too strong.

He wasn't particularly worried about the police. The other woman wasn't going to tell them anything soon. He knew he'd hit her with at least one shot. Blue Cove was isolated and the only phone was locked up in the office. He figured she'd never make it far enough to tell anyone else either. He had plenty of time and he intended to enjoy every minute of it. Once he'd cleared the Inlet and made it to international waters, no one could touch him. He was headed for Haiti where he had no fear of the local authorities either. Judicious gifts of money and other 'privileges' over the years had ensured his immunity. By the time he reached his villa, his work would be completed and Duquesne would be begging to please him.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Friday,

11:25 pm

Ryan grabbed his cellphone, bracing a hand against the dash as Frank whipped around a corner, practically on two wheels. After this ride, he swore to himself he'd never, ever complain about Calleigh's driving again. Tripp must moonlight as a NASCAR driver in his spare time. "Hello?" his voice rose as they crested a small hill and went airborne briefly before banging down on the pavement again.

Eric pulled the phone away from his ear for a moment and stared at it before putting it back, "What the hell are you doing, Wolfe?"

"Trying not to die!" Ryan snapped, his eyes widening at a truck that was slowly crossing their path. He squeezed his eyes shut and waited for the impact, "What do you want?" There was a screeching of tires as the car slewed to the left, pressing him into seat. Fighter pilot - forget NASCAR, Tripp was a wannabe fighter pilot. God help him. Wolfe became aware that Delko was shouting at him, "Say that again."

"I said, call the Coast Guard back and tell them to head out to the Bay Inlet. The kidnapper's already left the marina with Calleigh. Horatio figures this guy's making a run for international waters and that's the shortest route. The boat's name is the 'Esmerelda'." Eric shook his head. It sounded like Ryan was on a hell of a ride. He could sympathize. He'd been caught once with Frank when the big man was in a hurry. It had been years but it still made him shudder. "Where are you?"

"Purgatory," Ryan muttered, wishing he dared take his hand off the dash to wipe the sweat from his eyes. He raised his voice, "On our way to the Coast Guard station. They're holding a cutter for us." Wolfe hesitated, "Alexx?"

Eric's voice was quieter, "She was shot but she'll be okay, Ryan. She's on her way to Mercy. Look, call when you get under way. Horatio and I are on board the Katerina." He snapped his phone shut and looked back up to the bridge where Horatio was standing with Yustaf Armitage. The man had driven to the marina while they were still loading Alexx into an ambulance and found himself covered by a half-dozen pistols. Once they had established he hadn't anything to do with the abduction of the two women, they'd turned him loose. He'd promptly offered the use of his boat in chasing the Esmerelda. Horatio had leapt at the chance. The police launch was still thirty minutes out.

Ryan closed the phone and clenched his jaw as Tripp continued to fly over the road. It was a relief to hear about Alexx but his stomach was churning over Calleigh. If that bastard made it to international waters, they wouldn't be able to stop him and if Calleigh wasn't already dead, she'd probably wish she was.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Horatio nodded as Eric appeared on the bridge and went back to scanning the horizon. He looked over at Yustaf, "Any idea how fast the Esmerelda is?"

The big man snorted, "That garbage scow? She is nothing compared to my beauty, my Katerina." He patted the console fondly, "I run rings around her whenever I wish. That man, that Owens..."

Horatio turned so suddenly that Yustaf nearly stepped away from the helm, "Owens? Michael Owens? He owns the Esmerelda?" He heard Eric utter an expletive.

The Russian eyed the two men, "Yes. You know this man?" He grunted when Caine nodded, "Owens is a pig. Expensive suits, expensive car but he is still a pig. I have seen with my own eyes the people he takes aboard the Esmerelda. Prostitutes, that is what they are." He leaned closer, "They go on, but sometimes, they no get off."

"He kills them?" Eric was hard-pressed to keep his voice level. Oh god, Owens must be the missing twin. He looked nothing like his brother. Owens was heavier with dark short hair, glasses and a neatly trimmed mustache. Guilt felt like a red hot poker in his guts, even though there was no way he could have made the connection. He didn't have to look at Horatio to know that the Lieutenant was experiencing the same feelings. Neither had seen and now the bastard had Calleigh.

"Who can say?" Yustaf let go of the wheel for a moment to spread his hands. "He heads for open water, comes back alone." He frowned in disdain, "I tell you, one day he will no come back. He is a foolish man, that one." He saw Horatio raise an eyebrow at him and elaborated, "Big man. He spends money fixing the cabin for his pleasure but not where he should. One day he will be in his comfortable bed with his latest whore and the Esmerelda, she will fall apart and sink." He spat companionably into an old sand-filled coffee can to emphasize his point.

Eric couldn't help the alarm that coursed through him, "You're saying she's unseaworthy?"

Yustaf gave an expressive shrug, "Who knows for sure? You must always remember, the sea, she is hungry and fickle. When the mood is upon her, she could take the Esmerelda like that." He snapped his fingers.

Taking a deep breath, Horatio tried to curb his frustration and fear, "Can we catch her before the Inlet?"

Yustaf eyed the red-haired man, "If that is where she is going, then yes, I promise you. This is personal, yes?"

Horatio glanced at Eric and then looked back out to the horizon, "Very personal, yes."

Friday,

12:35 pm

Owens leaned against the side of the doorway and contemplated the woman in front of him. She was crying, silently to be sure, but crying all the same. He stretched slightly, trying to curb the thrill of anticipation. Everything was coming together as he hoped. The Esmerelda was, by far, one of his more brilliant ideas. Finally having a permanent, yet mobile, base was a tremendous asset to his work. Beyond making him virtually untraceable, it also had several unique features. It was those features that helped him quickly separate the wheat from the chaff as well as satisfy certain baser appetites. Kluge had done some amazing things. He taken Owens' ideas and plans and run with them. It was too bad he wasn't as bright about the real world as he was about electronics. Poor Victor had literally been shocked to find himself as the first test subject. Once he'd died, it was easy enough to stick a syringe in his arm and let the cops arrive at their own conclusions.

He smiled quietly. Duquesne hadn't had any idea of the significance of the metal chair. Not at first, anyway. Now, however, she was well acquainted with what he mendaciously referred to as the 'loveseat'. Somehow, he didn't think the woman would appreciate the study and effort he'd put in. Some artists worked in paint, he used common electrical current. It'd had taken a good deal of experimentation to get the right times and levels for the results he wanted. Fortunately, he'd kept meticulous notes and no one really missed the whores and homeless riff-raff who'd helped establish his guidelines.

This woman had tantalized him almost from the beginning. Oh sure, he'd done his best to kill her at the Hennessey house but she'd just been a cop at the time and he'd needed the incriminating evidence she'd found. At first he'd been angry about failing as well as worried. He'd never left an eyewitness alive before. It was enough to send him to a hair stylist for a new haircut and dye job. He'd endured a few teasing comments from his secretary but she attributed it to some sort of mid-life crisis and he hadn't dissuaded her. In the meantime, he'd been on pins and needles but as time went on and the police didn't appear at his door, he had to reconsider. Taking a chance, he'd boldly presented himself at the crime lab and gone into his dog and pony show. The investigator, none other than the great Lt. Caine himself, had conducted the interview. Owens had babbled his way through all the questions and apparently had managed to elicit more disdain than suspicion. Faced with these facts, it finally hit him. She had to be the one. The realization was startling. He'd inadvertently presented the ultimate test and both his survival and her own had brought about the epiphany. There was an irony here to be appreciated. All those years of searching and testing and his holy grail turned out to be a police officer.

It was hard to believe the end of his quest was so close. Strength, beauty and fire, all waiting for his hand to mold. So many before had been found lacking that he'd almost given up. It still gave him chills to realize it had nearly ended before it began. He'd been sorely tempted to kill Jackson when he found out about the attempt at the hospital. He wondered, sometimes, how they could be twins. His brother lacked the vision to understand what was before him. In the end, though, it merely clarified that she was the one he had to have. Fortunately, he'd still been able to execute his plan and even hold to his promise to give his idiot brother a chance at freedom. Truthfully, he didn't care one way or the other if Jackson ever saw the light of day again. All that mattered was that he had acquired her.

It hadn't been too difficult to delve into her background while he bided his time. The Internet was a useful tool and he was good at reading between the lines. Once he'd found which university she attended, he'd tracked down former classmates. Posing as a reporter doing a piece on women in unusual professions, he'd gotten a good deal of information. That had led him to Darnell, Louisiana, a gossipy woman and an interesting final piece of the puzzle. He now knew where to attack.

Duquesne's conditioning was moving along nicely. Patience was the key. Years and years ago, when he'd first began his quest, he'd rushed with the women he'd chosen. In his zeal, he'd been too anxious for results and things had gone badly. Now he had a plan and he kept to it. Phase one was crushing her will and destroying her self-image. He'd reached a significant breakthrough. It was the first time she'd cried on her own. He'd have to make sure he recorded that in his notes. He had no way of telling for sure but it was possible she was close to breaking despite the relatively short time that he'd had her.

Although to give the woman credit, one could say he'd actually started nearly two weeks ago. The stab wound he'd inflicted was still taking its toll. He knew he'd have to overwhelm her physically before he could subdue her mentally and she'd been halfway there before he'd even begun his work today. Her surprise defiance earlier had provided an opportunity to administer a quick but precise beating. It came a bit sooner than he'd planned but he made the most of it. Stabbing her with the pen had been an act of pure pique. He regretted losing his temper but not the result. At that point, the woman had been easier to deal with while unconscious and the additional pain would help bring her down that much faster.

Once he began her training, he'd chosen a mildly painful voltage that never quite let her rest, his purpose twofold. First, it would wear her down faster and secondly, it prevented her from concentrating on anything as foolish as escape. The constant stream of current made her feel like she was being jabbed with a thousand little needles. Along the way, he'd dialed in random spikes that had her screaming. With the timing based solely on his whims, Duquesne was constantly on edge as she waited for the next bone-rattling jolt. His grin grew wider as he contemplated the drain on her energy and that approaching moment of hopelessness she would experience when her body and mind finally betrayed her. How he loved his work. He'd had more fun in these last hours than he'd had in six months with dear old Constance.

Of course, Constance would have never set foot on the Esmerelda, let alone tolerated a fraction of what he'd done here. He smirked contemptuously, if she had, he doubted she would have lasted a couple of minutes, much less hours. Constance talked the talk but couldn't walk the walk. Not that it mattered, he'd known from the beginning that she was about the money. It was her need to shower him with expensive and highly sellable gifts that had financed the Esmerelda and her refitting.

In the meantime, he'd done what he could to prolong the excitement with Constance. Keeping her happy was highly profitable. He'd snuck in at odd times and caught her unaware. They'd done the deed on practically every surface of the house. They'd even used the panic room while her husband was in the study. Dull, rich Darian had never suspected a thing. Constance could never figure out how he'd get in although she'd alternately wheedled and demanded. He wasn't about to tell her of the tunnel Jackson had conveniently put in for him. He hadn't had any trouble convincing Jacko of the necessity. The massive wealth of the Hennesseys had been ample incentive for the extraordinary measures. From the first moment he'd met with them to discuss the security for their new home, he'd known he was going to make Constance his own and the looks he'd gotten from her when Darian wasn't paying attention, also made it clear she was in the market for a lover.

It hadn't been hard to dispose of original builder, Horace Kincaid. The man was a walking heart attack and once he was gone, Owens, with Constance's support, had been able to get Darian to hire Jackson's firm. Neither Hennessey realized the two men were related. It was all downhill from there. Owens smiled to himself, those early days had been fun. What would Constance have said that night in the panic room if she known the supply closet shelves he'd pinned her against, swung in to reveal his private access route?

After a time, though, the routine had gotten old and even the money didn't seem to matter. He'd grown bored and restless. Constance had become more demanding of his time, making it increasingly difficult to pursue his quest. That was unacceptable. Ordinarily, he would have arranged for her disappearance but the Hennessey wealth and power made that inadvisable. Instead, he'd re-introduced her to Jacko after intimating that they would be a threesome and suggested the two get better 'acquainted'. That had gotten her out of his hair for a time but then she was back. When he finally tried to end it conventionally, he found Constance's claws.

She threatened to take everything from him. At first, he thought she was bluffing but she'd soon disabused him of that notion. She'd informed him that not only would she expose their affair but that she'd claim he'd coerced her with incriminating photos taken after he'd slipped drugs into one of her drinks. Gleefully, she'd let him know that the police would be the least of his worries. Her husband would crush him. Pushed into a corner, he'd had no choice but to get rid of her. It had been the first he'd ever shot anyone and an unexpectedly intoxicating rush. On the way out, he'd run smack into Darian and been forced to kill him, too.

Owens shook his head, bringing himself back to the present and the business at hand. He'd anchored once more and it was time again to play his own little version of Truth or Consequences. In Duquesne's first training period, he'd cut off the current while he asked her questions and hit her with a jolt if he didn't hear what he wanted. Initially, he'd had to do it just to get her to answer at all. That hadn't lasted long. After that, he'd concentrated on rearranging her past, punishing her as he pushed his view of her family life and her role in ruining it. Even without the electrical incentive, he could tell she was unnerved by the extent of his knowledge. He played it for all it was worth and as he'd anticipated, she hadn't fought that hard to deny his words. From what he'd read on the subject, guilt was a natural reaction for the children of alcoholics. It was an opening he'd ruthlessly exploited. He needed to turn that long-held guilt into a stinking quagmire of self-loathing. Coupled with fear and pain and he had a combination sure to sink her down into hell.

The second segment hadn't lasted that long either as he again attacked her self-image. After only twenty-five minutes, Owens had had to retreat back to the bridge, taking deep, calming breaths. He'd wanted her so badly that it hurt. Depriving himself until the ultimate moment was part of the rush but it was getting harder and harder to hold himself back. The session had been mostly successful. She'd finally agreed that her parents drank because she was such a disappointment to them, that she'd been ungrateful and cowardly for leaving home and that her parents' divorce was entirely her fault. He'd gotten her to repeat it several times but he hadn't been able to get her to say that she needed him to make things right. Duquesne was being remarkably stubborn but he knew he'd eventually wring it out of her. It was just a matter of time.

On the last stop, he'd contented himself with provoking Duquesne into defiance and again beating the hell out of her for it. He needed to keep the woman off-balance and causing her physical anguish was almost as satisfying as the mental anguish. Methodically, he was shrinking her universe until nothing existed beyond pain and hopelessness. Knowing how the constant electrical shocks distorted a person's sense of time, he'd lied and told her they were already in international waters. It'd been worth it to see her fear ratchet up another couple of notches as she realized she was beyond rescue. Total despair was the goal he was aiming for, placing himself as her only way out of the pit he was creating.

Owens laughed silently to himself. Any resistance now meant that much more enjoyment for him later. His release would truly be epic. When she finally surrendered and asked him to take her to his bed, the self-loathing alone would set the stage for breaking her completely. Duquesne didn't know it would be out of the frying pan and into the fire. The bed was another of his special designs. He could turn a couple of hours into a living nightmare and she'd have only herself to blame - a fact he'd be sure to hammer home at each humiliating step. Owens suppressed another shudder of delight, picturing that moment when she finally lost everything. God, this would be good.

He would then take the pathetic, quivering mass he'd created and completely reverse her situation. At his hands, she would experience pleasure like she'd never imagined. He would be her savior. Hell, he'd be God and bask in her worship. It made him giddy just thinking about it. The only thing that might have topped it would have been if he could have corralled the infamous Lt. Caine as well. Pity he could never seem to catch the Lieutenant alone and unaware. Breaking someone like Caine would have required constant physical humiliation. The contrast between the two would have been a tantalizing way to cleanse his palate.

Owens sighed for what might have been and noticed Duquesne immediately stiffening. Damn, he'd planned to surprise her, figuring she'd be oblivious to anything but the electrical current fluctuating through her. Pushing himself off the doorframe, he pulled out the remote and thumbed off the program, smiling as she sagged in the chair. Sauntering over behind the blonde, he ran a hand down her sweat-drenched back and grinned as she cringed away from his touch. So there was still a little fight left. He lifted the remote and fired off another quick burst on the medium setting. It was enough to make her jump and strain against the bindings but not enough time for a full scream. What he got was a bone-weary groan that made him lick his lips in anticipation. Moving closer, he crouched down and breathed in her ear, "Tell me what I want to hear." He chuckled as she inched away and leaned in a little more, oozing sympathy, "I know it hurts. We don't have to keep doing this. All you have to do is say the words and I can make things so much better. The bed's right over there. It's easy. Tell me you want me and I'll satisfy your wildest desires." She pulled her head further away and couldn't contain a soft moan as the wire dug in deeper, starting a fresh trickle of blood. Owens grinned, half-closing his eyes as he savored the sound. She was teetering on the edge - he could feel it.

The next thing he knew he was sitting on the deck, his eyes tearing and a hand to his painfully throbbing nose. Pulling it away, he stared at the blood in shock. That little bitch! She'd lured him in and then swung back and cracked him right in the face! Livid, he scrambled to his feet, the remote forgotten. Pulling his arm back for a full swing, he brought a fist crashing down on the back of her head, then hauled off and kicked her several times for good measure. With an effort he made himself stop and stood panting, staring at the unconscious woman. Owens swore angrily. Feeling the blood still streaming from his nose, he spun on his heel and left to find some tissue and take some time to cool off. If he stayed, he would very likely beat her to death.

Back up on the bridge, he dropped into the chair and tilted his head back. Damn that woman! By god, he was through taking it easy on her! When he was done, she wouldn't be able to remember her own name. He rolled an eye towards the small video feed and control panel and made a determined effort to rein in his temper. It would be useless to up the current if she wasn't awake to enjoy it. There would be time enough for revenge. Gingerly, he touched his nose and winced. The damn thing was probably broken and from the feel of it, he'd now have another black eye to match the first one she'd given him. Discarding the sodden tissues, he pulled more out of the box. There was still a trickle of blood dripping out. Feeling the rage start to build again, he forced himself to look out at the horizon. If he gave in and killed her, she'd win. He took another breath, calming himself with increasingly vivid plans of retribution.

Finally, his subconscious gave him a sharp kick and he suddenly took a harder look at his surroundings. Oh hell! In his anger, he'd forgotten that they were almost at the mouth of the Inlet. There could be no more stops until he hit international water. While he was certain no one knew where to look for Duquesne, he'd taken enough time getting here. There was no point in pushing his luck. Stepping up to the console, he checked the heading and looked out at the horizon again. Five, maybe ten minutes away and then he'd have stay on the bridge until they cleared the channel.

Owens glanced down towards the video feed of the cabin. She was beginning to move again. From the way she was attempting to curl in on herself, it was possible he'd broken something. Dammit, he wanted... no, needed to teach that woman a lesson but it was imperative that he didn't kill her in the process. Broken bones could complicate matters. Owens considered his options. Maybe it was time to transfer her to the bed where the restraints would allow him complete access while immobilizing her as well. That way, if it was a broken rib or two, it could actually help keep her still while he worked. Hell, if she continued to defy him, a little pressure would go a long way as punishment. He'd just have to be careful.

He scanned the horizon again. It was a straight shot to the Inlet now with hardly any traffic. If he kept the speed slow, he could probably risk a short run on autopilot. He could also save a few minutes by strapping her in first and not removing all her clothes until later on. He'd have to cut them off and that wasn't going to be nearly as much fun as undressing her slowly. However, he would make that sacrifice in order to set the stage for her 'apology' before having to return to the bridge. It wasn't exactly how he'd planned it but adaptability was a virtue. Thinking about it, he even managed a smile. He would lay out his tools where she could see them and that pause while he navigated the Inlet would give her time to imagine what was coming. Hell, if he worked quickly enough, he could even treat her to a small preview.

Duquesne wouldn't know what hit her. It wasn't just about the amount of pain he could inflict, although the blonde had just earned herself a staggering amount. Pain was merely one of many effective tools for training. Women were fascinating creatures and even after all these years, he still enjoyed experimenting. Causing pain was easy enough but it had lacked challenge. Any oaf could hurt someone. Surprisingly, it was intense pleasure that broke down the last vestiges of self-will. Years ago, when he'd first began his quest, he'd used drugs to bring about euphoria. When that proved unpredictable, he went to the obvious physical route. Owens smiled slightly at the memories. He'd enjoyed himself immensely while 'researching' but couldn't say the same for his subjects. Eventually, he'd settled on a more clinical approach and that was when he made his breakthrough. Now he was in complete control.

Whether a woman was unwilling, terrified, enraged or apathetic, it didn't really matter. He could trigger waves of pleasure almost instantly and force it to that climatic level that overwhelmed consciousness. Usually, it was when he had them at the threshold that he indulged himself. Owens smirked, not one of them had ever objected to him satisfying himself before pushing them into blissful oblivion. Instead, like Pavlov's dogs, they'd learned to associate him with intense, mind-boggling pleasure. Every woman, even the most jaded prostitute, had become addicted to it. They'd continued to beg for more, no matter what, even if he'd inflicted soul-crushing agony earlier.

Duquesne's defiance had earned her the agony first, to be followed by the ecstasy. In his experience, it wouldn't take long before she would be unable to resist needing that second sensation despite what came before. It would interesting to observe how her mind dealt with the two extremes, especially at the levels she'd be experiencing. He'd only tried that sort of particularly intense sequence twice before. Neither result had been particularly good in the long run. Both had had a psychotic break, one going catatonic while the other just went bonkers. He'd studied the two cases thoroughly after the second failure and concluded that it wasn't really his fault. Neither woman had been strong enough. Duquesne would be different.

Coming to a decision, he hit the control to bring up the anchor, then eased on the throttle and set the autopilot. Turning to the console, he tapped in a few numbers and flipped the switch, watching Duquesne jerk as the current hit her. This setting was painfully debilitating. By the time he reached the cabin, she'd be just conscious enough to know what was happening, but unable to struggle for those few crucial minutes after the current ended. It was important that she know the cost of her actions from start to finish. Descending the ladder, he was just to the cabin steps when a low-pitched thumping caught his attention. Turning around he scanned the skies and frowned. The sound was getting louder but he still didn't see its cause. It sounded big, like a Coast Guard chopper. Where the hell was it? Suddenly, he was throwing himself down as the Coast Guard helicopter flashed above him from the bow. It was so close he swore he could see the bolts holding it together. Goddammit!! The Coast Guard didn't buzz boats for fun, they had to be after him! He pounded a fist on the deck in frustration. How the hell did they know?! It wasn't fair!

He froze for a moment as another thought suddenly occurred. Caine! That man was worse than a pack of hyenas on a blood trail. Jumping to his feet, he hurriedly searched the area around him. In the distance, the chopper was coming back around. Well, they could buzz him all they wanted. They couldn't land and aside from intimidation, they couldn't force him to stop either. They wouldn't shoot, they didn't know where Duquesne was. A Coast Guard cutter or police boat was another problem altogether. He didn't see anything official on the water anywhere near and relaxed a little. Nothing out there but some beat up old boat that looked intent on being the first to the fishing grounds. All he needed to do was get through the Inlet and run for international waters.

Owens started back to the bridge when he stopped and frowned. Turning back, he stared at the fishing boat again. It looked familiar. Uneasy, he hurried over to the ladder and clambered up to the bridge. Pulling out a pair of binoculars, he put them up to his eyes and cursed. God, his nose hurt! Taking a little more care, he squinted at the boat and swore more viciously. It was that crazy old Russian from the marina and there was no mistaking the red-haired man next to him. Turning around, he slapped off the autopilot and pushed the throttle wide open.

The Esmerelda leapt forward and he grinned in triumph. He could just imagine Caine's face as he watched his quarry slip away. The chopper sailed over him again and he ducked in reflex before straightening back up and giving them a one-fingered salute. Owens glanced over his shoulder to enjoy his victory and his mouth dropped open in shock. It shouldn't have been possible but that damned Russian was gaining! Caine and a dark-haired man were now standing on the bow like a couple of hounds straining at the leash. He swung back to look at his course and gripped the wheel tighter. They'd be on him before he cleared the Inlet and he'd didn't trust that lunatic boat captain not to try ramming him.

His heart pounding, Owens ran through his options. He wouldn't be taken, of that much he was sure. Slowly, he straightened. There was one thing he could do... but, dammit, it wasn't fair! He'd just found her. God only knew if there was another one out there. Owens took a deep breath, wrestling with the problem. Maybe... maybe this was what she was intended for. A sign not to lose hope and a sacrifice so that he might live to continue his quest. That was possible. It would hurt but he'd survive. That was what was important. Cops were always protective of each other and Duquesne was the Caine's subordinate. They'd drop everything to attempt a rescue. Eyeing the waterway in front of him, he put the autopilot on again.


	15. Chapter 15

Sorry for posting this so late - work's been busy. Thank you for the reviews and I hope you enjoy this latest installment.

Chapter 15

Friday,

1:00 pm

"You see? I told you! My Katerina run rings around that old scow!"

Eric turned slightly to acknowledge the jubilant Yustaf. He was standing on the bow with Horatio. Braced against the wind, he rode the motion of the boat without conscious thought. Almost all of his attention was on the boat in front of them. They'd already gone in and come back through the Inlet once. At first, he'd been worried that Owens had beaten them and was already halfway to international waters but Yustaf had forcefully discounted that idea. The only other explanation had been that Owens had dawdled on his way out of the country and they'd gotten here before him. Eric's jaw had clenched at the thought of what had probably distracted Owens from his flight although he'd kept his fears to himself. They'd circled around and spotted the Esmerelda on their second pass.

"He must have her below," Eric finally muttered, unable to keep silent any longer. His anxiety was getting the better of him. They were so close.

Horatio only nodded. From Owens' actions, it was clear the man knew it wasn't just the Coast Guard that was after him. This was the dangerous time. If Calleigh was still alive, would he kill her when it became obvious he couldn't get away or would he let her live in hopes of leniency? Horatio's gut was churning, telling him that Owens would take the first option if they couldn't somehow stop him.

"Oh hell, where's he going?" Eric straightened, a hand drifting automatically towards his pistol as he peered hard at the other boat. There was no way he could say out loud what he was thinking.

Horatio whirled back towards Yustaf, "We need to get closer! Now!"

"H!"

That one word had him spinning back towards the boat, drawing his pistol at the same time. Owens had reappeared half-dragging, half-carrying Calleigh. Her hands were bound behind her and while she was obviously still alive, she also appeared to be nearly unconscious. Her head was down and her legs kept buckling. It didn't deter Owens from moving towards the stern.

- - -

Hitting one last switch, Owens clambered down the ladder and hurried to the cabin, keeping an eye on the rapidly approaching Russian. He could see Caine and the other man... what the hell was his name... Daily... Davis... Delko - that was it, Delko - watching his every move. Owens resisted the urge to flip them both off and hurried his steps. He had to distract them long enough to make his escape. Grabbing the wire cutters from the shelf by the door, he knelt down by Duquesne and quickly cut through the ropes, leaving her hands tied just in case. Releasing the leather belt, he caught her as she fell off the chair. A sharp, anguished cry as he hauled her upright was the only indication that she wasn't completely unconscious.

Knowing that time was of the essence, he was less than gentle dragging her up onto the deck. Ignoring the pain-filled groans, he made sure she stayed between him and Caine. "It's been fun," he muttered in her ear as he made his way to the stern. Dammit, that idiot Russian was getting closer. Reaching the stern, he shot another look at Caine and Delko. He couldn't make out their expressions but he could tell they were absolutely focused on Duquesne. Perfect. "Okay, sweetheart, keep everybody busy and we'll meet again." Setting himself, he heaved her over the side. Ducking down quickly in case someone decided to start shooting, Owens grinned as Delko hurled himself into the water. His escape was assured.

- - -

Realizing the man's intent, Eric hurriedly laid his gun aside while kicking off his shoes. He barely heard Horatio's softly uttered curse as the Lieutenant lowered his pistol. He couldn't get a clear shot at Owens with Calleigh there. What happened next seemed to move in slow motion. Owens heaved Calleigh over the side and into the water. She disappeared almost immediately. Eric could hear Yustaf's shocked 'Mother of God!', the heavy thump of helicopter rotors drawing rapidly closer and the sound of Horatio yelling. Then he was in the water, swimming quickly towards the last spot he'd seen Calleigh. Reaching the area, he took a deep breath and dove down. Frantically, he scanned the water below for any sign of her. There! To his right and sinking fast. Like an arrow, he pursued her, ignoring how his lungs were beginning to burn.

After what seemed like an eternity, he latched onto an arm, stopping her descent. Consolidating his hold, Eric began swimming determinedly towards the surface. Never had it seemed so far away. Spots were appearing before his eyes as his system began to protest the lack of oxygen. Stubbornly, he struggled on despite the growing weakness. It couldn't end like this, not now.

It was a sign of how far gone he was that his first clue that someone else was there was a hand grabbing the back of his shirt and yanking him upwards. Instinctively inhaling as his head broke the surface, he was rewarded with a burst of precious oxygen. Greedily, he continued to gulp air until the sudden realization that his hands were empty. Oh god, Calleigh! In a near panic, he began to pull away. His heart was pounding in his ears and his eyes were burning from the seawater, turning everything into a blur. His struggles grew more frantic.

"ERIC!"

Shock at hearing Horatio's voice stopped him in his tracks. Swiveling towards the sound, Eric squinted at the form beside him, "H?"

"Right here, Eric," Horatio's voice was soothing.

Eric tensed again. "Calleigh - ," he rasped out.

"The Coast Guard has her," Horatio turned him around and pointed. Eric blinked furiously, finally realizing the pounding wasn't just his heart. He was hearing the helicopter. He could just make out a Stokes basket being hoisted into the air. Suddenly limp with relief, he might have slipped under the waves again if it weren't for Caine's iron grip. "Stay with me, Eric," the Lieutenant ordered firmly. "We're next in line."

Time was moving oddly, Eric decided as he and Horatio were hoisted up towards the helicopter's open doors. It had felt like both mere minutes and an entire eternity for the Coast Guard rescue diver to appear and get them strapped in for their ascent. He wasn't feeling all that well and the slow spin as they moved steadily upwards was increasing the dizziness. Worst of all, however, was the gut-wrenching fear that he hadn't gotten to Calleigh in time and she was gone. He was shaking by the time the crewman hauled the two of them in.

Eric stayed where he was on the deck, keeping his head down. Standing up wasn't an option at the moment, he'd merely wind up back where he'd started. He needed to ask about Calleigh but wasn't sure if he could handle the answer. She'd been underwater longer than he and Eric knew how close he'd come to drowning. A blanket landed across his back and then he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Eric? I need you to lean back so the medic can take a look." Horatio's quiet voice still managed to penetrate the noise level.

Carefully, Eric complied. His head had decided to add a painful throbbing to the wooziness. He flinched a little as the cool metal of a stethoscope pressed against his chest and then moved to his back. Dutifully, he exhaled as ordered. Inhaling was a different story as another coughing fit shook him.

Horatio looked at the medic, "Well?"

The medic shook his head, "I think he'll be okay but you should have him checked when we get to Ryder."

"H?" Delko's throat was raw from the coughing.

Caine turned back towards Eric, knowing what the young man feared, "It's all right, Eric. Calleigh's still with us." He glanced at the medic and smiled slightly, "Apparently, she tried to swallow half the ocean but they've got her breathing on her own. We're on our way to the Ryder Trauma Center."

"See her?"

Horatio looked at the medic and received a nod, "Sure." Together, the two men eased Delko to his feet and hung on until his balance stabilized. Slowly, they made their way over to where a crewman sat with Calleigh. They had transferred her to a stretcher and bundled her in blankets. She was horribly pale and, despite the oxygen mask, her skin still had a bluish tinge. With Horatio's help, Eric lowered himself onto the seat next to her. Reaching out, he lightly rested a hand on her forehead, needing the contact. It was then that he saw the raw marks on her neck. A fiery rage began to build. What the hell had that son of a bitch done?

"Easy, Eric," Horatio's voice penetrated the red haze that was gathering in front of his eyes. "We have her back and she's safe. She doesn't need your anger right now."

It was like a bucket of cold water hitting him, effectively dousing his temper. "Sorry," he muttered, closing his eyes and letting his head hang down.

"No worries," Horatio answered quietly, studying the younger man. From his CSI's actions over the last two weeks, he now had a good idea of how serious Eric was about their colleague. He hadn't been too sure before that. Eric had a reputation for playing the field and after Speed's death, had taken it to foolish extremes. Horatio wasn't sure how Calleigh had finally reacted to the situation but he knew she'd said something because Eric straightened up not long afterwards. Caine sighed to himself as he settled in a seat next to Eric. Thanks to Calleigh's intervention, he hadn't had to take official notice of Delko's actions other than the incident where he'd lost his badge. She was the best second in command he'd ever had. Calleigh had an intuitive sense of the lab and its people, often diffusing minor annoyances before they could snowball out of control. For his part, he had her back although he did his best to remain discreet. An independent woman, Calleigh didn't like to be hovered over.

It seemed Alexx had called it right and he would soon be running interference with IAB. Horatio swallowed a smirk. If there was a ray of sunshine in this whole mess, it was that Rick Stetler was in serious trouble with the brass for his half-assed attempt at railroading Eric. It would make it easier to ensure that IAB left Calleigh and Eric alone while they pursued their relationship. Horatio was surprised to find himself slightly envious of the young Cuban. The love of a good woman was hard to find. He'd had a few thoughts in that direction once upon a time. Hell, most of the men at CSI had probably entertained brief fantasies about Calleigh. Her looks, sunny disposition and inherent Southern charm were a killer combination. Even Ian, their nebbish forensic accountant, had been incensed that someone had hurt her and had volunteered to help in any way he could. For himself, however, Horatio had realized years ago that while Calleigh cared for him deeply, it was as a mentor and friend. He'd made his peace with it and let himself enjoy her company, counting himself lucky to be part of her inner circle. Caine turned his attention to the medic who'd moved up to check Calleigh's vitals, "What's our ETA to Ryder?"

"Ten minutes, give or take."

Horatio nodded, his face clouding over slightly. He'd been able to keep the guilt at bay while concerning himself with Eric but now it was back. This was the second time he'd failed to protect Calleigh and it had almost cost Alexx her life as well. Would either of them be able to forgive him?

"She'll be okay," Eric offered suddenly and Horatio looked over to see the younger man watching him with an expression of fierce determination.

Caine ducked his head, "Yes, she will."

They both became aware of the pitch of engine changing and shortly thereafter, the helicopter began its descent. The medic scooted back over, "I need some space, officers. We'll be landing soon and I need to get her prepped for the transfer." He eyed Eric and then spoke to Horatio, "Make sure they take a look at him, too."

Horatio nodded, "I'll see to it." It earned him a look from Delko that he returned without a touch of remorse, "You came pretty close to drowning, Eric. Calleigh will have my hide if I let you slide on this." He smiled slightly, "And she scares me a damn sight more than you do."

A minute or so later, they touched down on the landing pad and highly organized chaos ensued. In a matter of moments, Calleigh had been whisked off the chopper and into a nearby elevator which promptly disappeared. An older man appeared in front of Horatio and Eric and held out a hand, "I'm Gavin Sapporo. I'm one of the hospital liaisons for the families of our patients. I understand you're all police officers?"

"Crime scene investigators. I'm Horatio Caine and this is Eric Delko," Horatio clarified as he shook Sapporo's hand, half his attention on the elevators. He glanced at Delko before continuing, "Can someone check Eric? He nearly drown himself, rescuing Calleigh."

Sapporo looked surprised, "Of course, I'm sorry, we didn't realize we had two victims."

"I'm not a victim," Eric shook his head, albeit carefully. "It wasn't that bad." He looked at Sapporo, "All that's left is a little headache, I don't need a doctor wasting their time." Dammit, if he wound up stuck in this place as a patient, he'd never see Calleigh.

Horatio tilted his head to the side, "I beg to differ." He lifted an eyebrow, "And seeing how I outrank you... "

"Gentlemen, why don't we head downstairs? I'm sure I can find someone to give Mr. Delko a look. Meanwhile, I'll tell you how we work here at Ryder and try to answer any questions you may have." He lead the way to another set of doors, explaining that the ones Calleigh disappeared behind were to high-speed elevators designed to get the victim to the waiting medical team in 15 seconds time.

By the time they reached the comfortable waiting rooms, Horatio and Eric had learned that the trauma care offered by Ryder was based on life-saving treatment within the 'golden hour', the first sixty minutes after the trauma occurred. To that end, each patient was handled by a team consisting of board-certified trauma surgeons, anesthesiologists, radiologists and skilled trauma nurses as well as a variety of support personnel, such as neurologists and orthopedists, dependent upon the nature of the injuries. If multiple surgeries were required, different specialists operated at the same time, keeping the surgery time to a minimum. Everything from room temperature to dietary needs to psychological counseling were geared towards the patient's survival and recovery. Their success rate was such that if you made it to their doors still alive, there was every chance you'd leave the same way. It was reassuring for both men.

Gavin gestured towards the chairs, "If you'll have a seat, I'll see who I can round up." He looked at both men's half-dried clothes and stocking feet, "And if you'll give me your shoe sizes, I'll see about getting you something else to wear."

A short time later, he reappeared with a young, dark-haired woman. Gavin introduced her as Dr. Ruiz. He gestured to Eric, "If you'll go with the doctor, she can examine you."

Eric considered arguing and then gave it up. Horatio wasn't going to let it go and it would be faster to acquiesce. He nodded to Ruiz as he stood up and then looked over at Gavin, "Anything on Calleigh?"

He shook his head, "It's a bit early yet. I promise we'll let you know as soon as we can."

"Gavin," Horatio took a breath, "CSI Duquesne was kidnapped by the man suspected of having attempted to kill her before. He had her for several hours. We will need to process evidence..." his voice dropped as he hesitated slightly, "... and we'll need a rape kit done."

Sapporo's eyes widened, before he resumed his professional demeanor, "I'll let the team know." He looked at the two anxious men, "Counseling is part of the treatment here. We will have people to help her, I promise." He paused for a moment, "I know it's hard to think about right now but there is paperwork that needs to be filled out and we'll need to contact her family."

Horatio nodded, "I'll handle the paperwork. I hold her medical power of attorney." He glanced away for moment, "Her father's the only family she has in Miami. I'll see about contacting him as well."

Gavin smiled, "Very good." He watched as Eric followed Dr. Ruiz to an examining room and then turning to Horatio, handed over the bundle he had in his hands, "There's restrooms just down the hall. There's several sizes of scrubs here along with the tennis shoes. Something's bound to fit. In the meantime, I'll get the forms we'll need."

"Thank you," Horatio nodded gratefully to Gavin before heading off to get changed as well.

Eric sat on the table and unbuttoned his shirt, trying to curb his irritation. It wasn't the doctor's fault he was sitting here. The woman gave him a quick smile as she ran through her examination. Eric impatiently sat through the poking and prodding until she was finally reduced to scribbling on a clipboard. He waited a few moments longer and then cleared his throat. When she glanced up at him, he raised an eyebrow, "Well?"

Dr. Ruiz gave him a slight smile, "Your lungs sound clear, your pulse is strong, your blood pressure is a bit high, which is understandable considering the circumstances, and I see no evidence of injuries. Your eyes are irritated and I can prescribe something for that if you wish. How do you feel?"

He stared at her while he considered the answer. Should he tell her about the rage that had him wanting to beat Michael Owens to a bloody pulp for the pain he'd inflicted on Calleigh and Alexx? Or the gut-churning fear that he might still manage to lose Calleigh one way or another? Or the nearly overwhelming guilt for not seeing what Owens was, right from the start? Finally, he took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I'm fine. May I go now?"

Her smile told him she had expected this answer. She stopped writing on the clipboard and gestured towards a curtained area of the room. "There's a couple sets of scrubs and shoes over there. I think you'll be a little more comfortable once you're out of the wet clothes. Get changed and then do me a favor and keep an eye on yourself. If you begin to develop a cough, see your doctor immediately. With drownings and near-drownings, pneumonia is always a problem."

Eric nodded as he slid off the exam table and headed over towards the clothes, "I'll do that, Doctor. Thanks."

Dr. Ruiz watched for a moment longer, one eyebrow slightly raised as she realized she'd been politely dismissed. Turning, she walked out. Unlike some of her colleagues, she wasn't going to get in a snit about the officer's less-than-obsequious attitude. Her uncle was a retired Chicago beat cop, she knew what they were like when one of their own was in trouble. It was one of the reasons Gavin had sought her out.

Eric quickly changed and then hurried back to the waiting area. It was probably still too soon but he didn't want to miss the chance of talking first-hand with Calleigh's doctors. When he reached the waiting room, Horatio was just returning himself. He nodded to Eric, "I checked in with Frank and Ryan. They've got Owens and they're on their way to Dade County General. Apparently, Owens decided to put up a fight and the Coast Guard put a couple of rounds into him. Tripp will stay with Owens at the hospital and Ryan said he was going to swing by Mercy to check on Alexx and let her know about Calleigh before he comes here. Miami-Dade PD will be bringing the boat in."

Eric felt a brief stab of guilt at the mention of Alexx. After being assured by the paramedics at the scene that the ME's wound wasn't life-threatening, most of his attention had been focused on finding Calleigh.

Horatio was silent for a few moments as he studied a far wall and then turned his head to look at Delko, "I'm going to have Mr. Wolfe process the boat when it comes in. This stays in the family."

"That's an awful lot to process for one guy," Eric hesitated briefly, "I can help."

"Thank you, Eric. I know this won't be easy." Horatio nodded briefly. He hadn't wanted to ask.

Eric frowned a little, "Umm, H? What about the DA? Calleigh's part of our team. A good defense lawyer could make a case for conflict of interest."

"Alexx's testimony alone will be enough to nail this guy. I'll talk to the DA. Whatever forensics turn up on that boat, I don't want it becoming grist for the rumor mill. Calleigh's been through enough." Horatio's expression was grim.

Delko gave a sharp nod, looking equally grim. He knew what Horatio feared, "Okay, we'll handle it." There didn't seem to be that much left to say. They settled into a couple of chairs to wait for news.

Twenty minutes later, Horatio saw Gavin and a doctor walking down the corridor towards them. Hurriedly, he and Eric stood up and waited. Gavin made the introductions and Horatio got right to the point, "Will she be all right?"

Dr. Deluca glanced at Gavin before looking back at Horatio, "I really should be talking to her family first."

Caine scowled, his voice a threatening rumble, "We are her family." Beside him, Eric was glaring.

Deluca held up a hand, "Technically no, but Gavin did explain the situation." Dropping his hand, he glanced down at the clipboard, "The most important news is that Ms. Duquesne will recover." He gave them a few seconds to digest that before moving on, "We will keep her here for a couple of days, at the very least. With the amount of fluid she had in her lungs, pneumonia will almost certainly develop and the earlier we catch it, the better."

He looked down at his notes again, "The puncture wound to her leg should heal without complications. It's been too long for stitches but we performed a debridement of the area and put her on a wide-spectrum antibiotic. There'll be some scarring. We do have plastic surgeons available if she'd like to discuss reducing the scar later on. There's a broken rib that, unfortunately, was aggravated when the Coast Guard medic was expelling water from her lungs and a number of contusions, more than a few, I'm afraid." He glanced up, "She took a beating."

Horatio nodded slowly, "We know she fought with her kidnapper when he first grabbed her. It allowed a colleague to escape and alert us."

Dr. Deluca's eyebrows rose slightly, "Strong woman." It always amazed him at the amount of fighting spirit contained by patients as small and petite as Ms. Duquesne. He'd seen it before but there never seemed to be a rhyme or reason to it. Some people simply refused to give up.

Eric gave him a half-smile, "You have no idea."

"That's good to know," Deluca hesitated and then took a deep breath, "She fought her restraints, too. There are ligature marks: bruises, abrasions and lacerations, on her wrists, ankles and the back of her neck. There were also what appear to be electrical burns in the same areas."

"He tortured her," Horatio's voice was flat while Eric looked like it was all he could do not to hit something.

"Yes," Deluca matched his tone. "The rape kit was negative, however, so I suppose we can be thankful for small favors." He fell silent.

Horatio looked at him, "What else?"

"She's still unconscious," he shrugged a little. "Physically, there's no reason. However, considering the mental and physical trauma she's been through, our assumption is that her subconscious has decided that the best way to deal with all this is to not deal at all."

"She's in a coma?" Horatio was hard-pressed to keep his tone even and detached.

Deluca shook his head, "Not exactly. We could force her to wake but I'd prefer that she come around on her own. That might take a day or two." The doctor frowned slightly like he was setting himself for a fight over that decision.

Horatio glanced over at Eric and then focused on Deluca again, "Would it help to have friends sit and talk to her? Let her know she's safe?"

Deluca looked a bit surprised. Most cops he dealt with wanted to interview their suspects or victims as soon as possible, conditions or consequences be damned. "Well, it certainly couldn't hurt." Glancing at his watch, he forestalled Caine's next question, "We should have her settled in a room within the hour. Gavin can come get you when it's time."

All four men turned at the sound of hurrying feet. They saw Ryan half-jogging towards them. Horatio quickly introduced the young man. Dr. Deluca excused himself right afterwards to return to his patient while Gavin stayed with the CSIs. After thanking the doctor, Horatio turned to Ryan, "How's Alexx?"

Wolfe gave a lopsided smile, "She's going to be fine. Her husband's with her right now. Don't tell her I said so, but Alexx's a lousy patient. She's already giving the hospital staff hell about keeping her overnight. She was happy to hear that we rescued Calleigh and then threatened to box my ears if I didn't call her with an update as soon as I got here." He looked from one man to the other, his anxiety becoming more apparent, "So? How is she?"

"She'll be okay," Horatio reassured him. He paused for a moment, letting his chin drop to his chest, "Do you happen to have your kit with you?"

Ryan looked surprised at the question, "Yeah, sure. One of the patrolmen brought the Hummer to Dade County when he heard that was where we were headed. I drove it here." He swallowed, looking a little paler, "You want me to... ?"

Horatio fixed him with an intense stare, "Calleigh will understand. I don't want this guy to ever see the light of day. We close every loophole."

"Okay," Ryan nodded reluctantly. Horatio was right. They still had a job to do.


	16. Chapter 16

Here we go. As always, hope you enjoy and a big thanks to those of you who have taken the time to review.

Chapter 16

Friday,

3:35 pm

Eric sat in the chair next to Calleigh's bed and listened to the sound of her breathing amidst the quiet beeps from the monitors. God willing, he'd never have to sit another vigil like this. He'd been talking to her for almost an hour, letting her know that Alexx would be okay and that they'd caught the bastard who'd made her life hell for the last two weeks. He told her about Yustaf Armitage and the Coast Guard and smilingly described what he'd heard of Wolfe's first car experience with Tripp when the big man was in a hurry.

He also admitted to his growing realization that Ryan was turning into a first-class CSI. Eric couldn't help the slight grin while imagining Calleigh's reaction to that acknowledgment. He knew she'd been caught in the middle of their animosity. His estimation of the younger man had gone up as they worked the case together. Wolfe had handled the latest gathering of evidence from Calleigh with admirable professionalism. It wasn't that he wasn't affected by it all. Eric had been close enough to hear a few of Ryan's quietly angry mutterings. The gist of it had been Wolfe wishing some of Coasties' shots had hit particular parts of Owens' anatomy. Eric fully concurred with that sentiment. He could still feel the rage he experienced when the nurse had systematically revealed the extent of the injuries Calleigh had suffered. Horatio hadn't been immune either, although you had to know him well to see past the professionally stoic facade.

He finally fell silent while he considered everything that had occurred since the Hennesseys' murder. The double killings had been a hell of a catalyst, making him realize just how much she meant to him. Horatio had told him to take this first shift with Calleigh and he was grateful for the time. With everything that had happened, he felt like a spring that had been wound too tight. Sitting quietly with Cal would give him time to decompress. H would be sitting with her next. The Esmeralda would be at the impound in a few hours and he needed to help Ryan gather the evidence. After that, he'd be back. It was no secret that Delko was planning on spending the night by her bedside.

Horatio and Ryan had left a little earlier to go back to the lab with the evidence they'd gotten from Calleigh. From there, they'd meet up with Tripp and the Assistant District Attorney. Eric shook his head, hopefully the ADA wouldn't have a problem with Horatio and the team's participation. He turned his attention back to Cal and began telling her about latest goings-on in the lab. He wished she would wake up.

Friday,

3:50 pm

"Mr. Wolfe?"

Ryan froze for a split second before turning to Horatio, "It's nothing, H. Just a scratch." He'd stretched too far into the Hummer to retrieve the evidence and been unable to hide a wince.

Horatio tilted his head slightly, "Perhaps you should tell me exactly what happened with Owens."

Ryan shrugged carefully, "I don't think he expected Armitage to keep after him once he threw Calleigh overboard. He was so focused on the Katerina that he didn't see the Coast Guard cutter until it was too late. Owens was caught in between and the next thing you know, he's got a gun and he's shooting at everyone. The Coasties returned fire." He shook his head, "I don't know how anyone managed to hit him with all the motion from the boats but they did."

"And he hit you." It wasn't a question.

Ryan ducked his head, "Umm, it wasn't Owens, H."

Horatio stared at him, confused, "The Coast Guard?" When Ryan shook his head, Caine frowned, "Who else was there?" He answered his own question a moment later, "Yustaf? He shot you?"

"He didn't mean to, he'd been shooting at Owens. Some old horse pistol he had stashed on the bridge. I'm surprised he didn't shoot himself."

"Did you arrest him?"

"Uh, no, no I didn't. It was an accident. He pulled up alongside after we got the boat stopped, all excited and waving his hands around. Then the gun slipped out of his hand. It went off when it hit the deck. It was just one of those stupid things. Besides, he barely touched me," Ryan insisted. "It needed a couple of stitches, that was it." He eyed his lieutenant, "You're not going to send me home, are you?"

Horatio permitted himself a small smile, "No, I think there's too much work to be done yet, don't you? Make sure everything's in your report. We don't need IAB intruding again." He stepped forward and picked up the evidence box, "And Ryan? No heavy lifting for a while, okay?"

"Yeah, sure," Ryan grinned in relief. He needed to stay with this case until the end for his own peace of mind. He owed it to Calleigh to make sure Owens paid for what he did. He followed Horatio into the building and then they separated. The Lieutenant went to log in the evidence while Ryan headed for the locker room to change out of his bloodied shirt. His sport jacket had kept it concealed but it was evidence, too. It took longer to reach his destination than he planned. Almost everyone he ran into wanted to know about Calleigh.

Twenty minutes later, he tapped on Horatio's office door and waited until he heard 'Enter'. Once inside, he nodded to Tripp and ADA Spinner. He took up a position near Horatio's left shoulder as the two men acknowledged his greeting and glanced at his Lieutenant. Caine was still wearing the scrubs from the hospital, looking incongruous behind his desk. Horatio gave Ryan a slight smile before shifting his attention back to Spinner, "My team has been involved in this since the beginning, Roger. Pulling us out now will suggest to the defense that everything up to this point is somehow tainted. Let the evidence speak for itself. They can bring in their own forensic experts if they're worried. We can document everything we've done."

Spinner ran a hand over his head, "No one in the DA's office is questioning your lab's integrity but you know the defense will. C'mon, Horatio, this guy took one of your people. It's against protocol and besides, is it really that smart to let members of the same team process the evidence? That's not fair to them or to us."

"The hell it's not," Ryan snapped, subsiding when Horatio gave him a look.

Caine leaned forward, folding his hands on the desk, "Most of the people from every shift at this lab have been helping. They've all taken this personally. Who would you give it to?"

"What about the Feds?" Spinner suggested carefully.

Horatio shook his head, "Listen to me, Roger, the last time someone outside this lab became involved in this investigation, Eric Delko was falsely accused of attempted murder and Calleigh Duquesne's reputation was maliciously trashed within the department. If you think I will give anyone that opportunity again, you're sadly mistaken. My team will handle the rest of this investigation. There will be no more input to the rumor mill from this case. Your office may oversee whatever aspect they'd like, whenever they like, but it stays here. Are we clear?"

Spinner slouched in his chair as he rubbed his jaw. Caine had a valid point. IAB had certainly screwed the pooch during their investigation of the attack on CSI Duquesne. He knew for a fact that the vultures were already circling, hoping she'd file suit. If the woman hooked up with the right attorney, she'd never have to work another day for the rest of her life. Delko's case wasn't as clear cut. There'd been enough circumstantial evidence to justify holding him.

Frank looked over at the ADA and scowled, "What the hell difference does it make, Spinner? We have at least five eyewitnesses that can testify that Owens threw Calleigh off the back of a speeding boat in an attempt to kill her. Alexx Woods can testify to Officer Sanderson's murder, the kidnapping and the fact that that son of a bitch shot her. I don't care who this guy's lawyers are, one way or the other, he's going down."

Spinner threw up his hands, "Fine, okay. It's all yours, Horatio." He leaned forward, "My office will have free access whenever and wherever they choose, is that clear?"

"Crystal," Horatio gave Spinner a hard stare, "No leaks, is that clear?"

"Crystal." Spinner picked up his briefcase and walked out.

Tripp watched him leave and then turned back to Horatio, "Ambitious little twerp. He could care less about Calleigh or Sanderson. If he gets his conviction on the Hennessey case, it'll make his career."

Ryan carefully folded his arms, mindful of his side, "I'm surprised the DA isn't handling this personally."

Frank snorted, "The stakes are just as high in the other direction. Lose and it's a career-breaker. The DA doesn't have the balls." He looked at Horatio, "Spinner, on the other hand, will be the first to point the finger at your lab if he botches this. The good news is that the weasel is a hell of a prosecutor."

"Good to know." Horatio glanced down at himself, seeming to notice the scrubs for the first time. "If you gentlemen will excuse me, I believe I'll get changed." He looked back up at the two men, "I'll meet you in Layout in fifteen. I want to hear everything that happened after Eric and I went into the water."

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Friday,

4:30 pm

Horatio stared at the photo of Owens and then gave Ryan a frigid glare, "Mr. Wolfe?"

Ryan held up his hands, "It wasn't me, H." He waited a moment and then shared a grin with Frank, "He was like that when we got to him."

Horatio looked at him for a few long seconds before his lips twitched slightly, "Calleigh?"

Wolfe nodded vigorously, "Alexx said she cracked him a good one when she went after him the first time. Looks like she got a second shot in - broke his nose according to the doc at the ER."

Frank shook his head, still smiling, "Remind me not to piss that woman off."

"Good idea," Horatio nodded. He looked over at Ryan, "What was Owens' prognosis?"

"He'll live," Ryan sounded disappointed and then settled down to business. He glanced at his watch, "He should be out of surgery soon. He was hit in the torso and the right leg. He won't be going anywhere for a while."

Horatio looked over at Frank who shrugged, "He'll be under guard as soon as he comes out of the OR. Once we can transfer him, he'll go to a prison ward. Maybe we'll get lucky and the bastard will die unexpectedly on the table."

"Amen to that." Both men knew that trials were never foregone conclusions, even with overwhelming evidence. The only good thing about this whole mess was the massive amount of charges leveled against Owens. If only a quarter of them stuck, he'd never see the outside of a prison again. Horatio looked back to Ryan, "Walk me through the timeline after I left the boat."

"... and we got the boat stopped about the same time the MDPD boat showed up. Officer Landers went on board first and secured the scene." Ryan concluded and gave Horatio an apologetic shrug, "I didn't think I could make the jump. The Coasties had paramedics on board. Once they'd stabilized Owens, they transferred him over to the cutter. I joined them and we headed back to the mainland. There was an ambulance waiting at the dock. Owens was unconscious so I didn't get to talk to him. MDPD stayed with the Esmerelda. They were going to tow it in. Landers said he'd call when they got it to impound."

"Very good, Mr. Wolfe. I'd like you and Eric to process the boat when it comes in." Horatio stood for a moment in thought and then looked over at Frank, "I think it's time we visited Mr. Wiley again. With his brother in custody, he might be a little more willing to talk."

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Friday,

6:40 pm

Eric stood staring at the Esmerelda and then glanced over at Ryan. He could tell Wolfe wasn't looking forward to this either. Tightening his jaw, he gave himself a slight shake. There was also no way he wanted some stranger processing the boat. He owed Calleigh that much. Gripping his kit a little more firmly, he growled, "Let's do this."

Ryan nodded silently, recalling the look on Landers' face when he came back on deck to declare the Esmerelda secure. Taking a deep breath, he followed Eric on board.

"Let's process the deck first, then the bridge and finish up with the cabin," Delko said, putting his kit down and opening it up.

"Okay," Ryan didn't bother voicing his relief that Eric hadn't suggested splitting up. Carefully, he lowered his kit to the deck and then unslung the camera.

"You okay, man?" Eric looked at the younger CSI in concern. H had clued him in on Ryan's injury.

Ryan snorted softly, "Ask me that after we've finished processing."

"I hear you," Eric sighed, pulling on his gloves. "Let's go." The deck was fairly straightforward. Bullet holes, casings and blood spatter were photographed, measured and collected like any number of shooting scenes that they'd processed over the years. Eric tried not to think too much about the light blood trail that led from the cabin entry to the stern. The time for that would come soon enough. Packing up his last sample, Eric looked over at Ryan and jerked his head towards the front of the boat, "Ready for the bridge?" Getting a nod, he stood up and walked over to the ladder. Playing his light over the rails and steps, he stopped and called over his shoulder, "I've got blood here."

Ryan walked up, focused his camera and began taking pictures, "It's probably Owens'. It looked like he bled all over himself after Cal broke his nose." Lowering the camera, he scowled at Eric, "Bastard. I wish she could have broken a few other things."

"You and me, both," Eric agreed grimly as he swabbed samples and packed them away. Once he was done, he climbed up to the bridge and looked around. "I've got bloody tissues on the deck. Looks like he sat here for awhile." He moved over to the console and looked it over, stopping suddenly as he spotted the small video screen, "What the hell... ?"

Ryan climbed slowly up and joined Eric at the console. He peered at the screen, "Oh god, that's in the cabin, isn't it?"

Eric nodded wordlessly and pushed a switch. Needles sprang to life and they both watched a spark arc from the metal buckle on the wide leather strap to the chair itself. Eric hurriedly turned it off, breathing, "That son of a bitch..."

Swallowing heavily, Ryan brought the camera up and started taking pictures. God knew both he and Eric had seen all manner of depravity and despicable acts in the course of their jobs but knowing Calleigh had been the victim here made the bile rise in his throat. Determinedly, he finished the shots and glanced over at Delko, "Want me to collect samples or prints?" At least his voice held steady.

"Why don't you dust for prints?" Eric's voice was deeper than usual as he worked to contain the anger he was feeling. He had to get himself under control before they went below for the last and worst scene. Silently, they finished the bridge and then looked at each other. Eric looked like he'd rather have a root-canal without the painkillers, "Time for the cabin."

Wolfe nodded and the two men made their way down to the main deck. Eric entered the cabin first and stopped, slowly scanning the area. He could do this. He glanced over his shoulder at Ryan, "Start with the chair and then work our way out?" Wolfe nodded and stepped forward, his face set in grim determination. Bringing up the camera, he began taking pictures. After he finished with the chair and moved to the bed, Eric crouched down and began a closer examination of the area, "Chair's bolted to a metal plate. There's wires attached at the corner. Looks like he used cheap cotton rope on her arms and legs. Fast and easy to cut through." He didn't bother mentioning the blood stains on the rope or wire pieces that he bagged and tagged. Ryan had already seen them and he didn't want to think about it.

They worked in near silence until Ryan suddenly swore. Eric looked up, "What?"

Wolfe shook his head, his jaw working, "You need to see this for yourself." He held up a battered looking journal.

Reluctantly, Eric walked over and stopped as he glanced down the open cabinet next to the bed, "Jesus, Mary and Joseph." He shot an appalled look at Wolfe, "Thank god Owens never got to use these on her."

Ryan looked grim and handed over the book, "But he used them on others. That SOB kept notes."

Eric scanned the first couple of pages and then stared at Ryan, "Owens is a serial." Almost reluctantly, he flipped the pages to the last entries. It only took a few seconds of reading before he was slapping the book closed and shoving it back at Ryan. Eric looked slightly ill, "I can't do this. The last pages are about Calleigh."


	17. Chapter 17

I've been trying to upload this since Saturday evening. At some point, it's gotta work.

Here's the next chapter. Eight more to go and this will be done. Thank you to those that reviewed. Hope you enjoy.

Chapter 17

Friday,

11:25 pm

Eric woke suddenly and tensed until his mind caught up with the unfamiliar surroundings. Scrubbing at his face, he looked over at the nurse who was checking Calleigh's vitals. She saw him watching and said quietly, "Sorry, didn't mean to wake you."

He shook his head, "S'okay. Any change?" He glanced at Calleigh as he spoke, she looked the same as she had before. His gaze dropped to the hand he was holding, his thumb rubbing light circles.

"Not yet," the nurse gave an apologetic shrug. "On the plus side, she's not any worse either. How are you feeling?" By now, most of the floor nurses knew of his role in rescuing Callleigh. Between that and his overnight attendance, the general consensus was that their patient had a good deal to live for.

Delko shifted uncomfortably. Every nurse who came in asked him that question, "Fine, no cough."

"Good," she nodded firmly as she finished up her notations and closed the chart. "Go back to sleep."

"Yes ma'am," Eric waited for her to leave before settling back down. The nurse in charge of Calleigh's team, a petite, grandmotherly sort who seemed the antithesis of the stereotypical battleaxe, had scrounged a recliner for him when it became apparent he was staying, come hell or high water. He looked over at Calleigh, "They were in again, checking on you. So far, so good. Dr. Deluca expects you'll be developing pneumonia soon because of the fluid you had in your lungs. They'll be on top of it as soon as it happens so don't worry. Whenever you're ready, it's okay to wake up. You're safe." He watched her for a few more seconds and then sighed, letting his head drop back. Every time one of the nurses came in, he'd repeated some variation of what he'd just said. Calleigh had yet to respond.

Dawn was making its first appearance when Eric woke once more. He scanned the room and frowned a little. There wasn't a nurse to be seen, what had roused him? He glanced over at Calleigh and felt his heart give a startling thump. She was awake. He gave her a small smile, "Good morning."

Calleigh blinked and then a look of horror crossed her face, "NO!" With that, she began a frantic scramble to get out of the bed. Eric sat in dumfounded shock, losing a few precious seconds in the process. It was all the time she needed to rip away blankets and monitor leads and fling herself over the side rail and away from him. She collapsed almost as soon as her feet touched the floor.

"Calleigh!" Eric shed his momentary paralysis, bolting out of the recliner and beginning his own frantic scramble around the end of the bed. She was lying in a heap with her arms wrapped around her sides, moaning softly. Delko slid to halt and dropped to his knees, cautiously reaching out a hand, "Cal? It's okay... "

He didn't get any further. Her eyes snapped open and then she was shoving herself away, sliding along the floor until she hit the wall. There, she braced herself into a defensive huddle, one arm tightly pinned to her side. She regarded Eric with an expression of angry defiance and outright terror, "Get away from me." Her voice came out in a pain-filled, breathless gasp.

He stayed where he was, slowly raising his hands in calming gesture although he was nearly positive she could hear his heart hammering in his chest, "Calleigh, please. It's me, Eric." He cursed inwardly when he heard the door open behind him. Calleigh flinched and gathered herself in tighter.

"What the hell?"

Eric didn't recognize the voice and chanced a quick look over his shoulder. An unfamiliar man in a lab coat was standing in the doorway with Louise Vanderosen, the head trauma nurse of Calleigh's medical team. Delko decided to direct his response to her, keeping his voice soft, "Calleigh woke up and panicked. I don't think she knows where she is." The next part was harder to say, "She doesn't seem to recognize me."

"Well, she can't stay there." The doctor took one step forward and stopped as Calleigh tried to flatten herself against the wall. Sighing slightly, he glanced over his shoulder at Louise, "Get a couple of orderlies, we're going to have to sedate her."

"No!" It came out louder than Eric intended and he winced at the effect on Calleigh. "No," he repeated in a quieter but no less intense voice.

The doctor regarded him with impatience, "I can't treat her if I can't get near her. For all we know, that broken rib might have already punctured a lung."

"Gentlemen, you need to take this outside," Louise interrupted firmly. Dr. Jorge Nogales was a young and brilliant new addition to the staff but he had a tendency to lose sight of the person while he tended the patient. Jason Deluca thought he had potential and Louise agreed with that assessment but his training had had some bumps along the way and he was still learning that disagreeing with the vastly more experienced head nurse was never a smart idea. While sedation was probably necessary, Nogales' quick decision to do it by force had disaster written all over it. He was going straight to a medical solution without considering the consequences to his patient. The young CSI, on the other hand, was obviously thinking of the consequences. Louise stepped in before it could get more out of hand.

"I'll stay with Ms. Duquesne." The glare she directed at the two men left little room for argument. Eric reluctantly rose to his feet and Louise laid a reassuring hand on his arm as he passed her, "It will be okay." He gave her a grateful look before focusing his attention on the doctor. Louise waited until she heard the door shut before slowly approaching her patient. When she'd gotten as close as she could, she carefully lowered herself to the floor and gave Calleigh a warm smile, "My name's Louise. It's good to see you awake." The blonde didn't reply but continued to watch silently. Louise thought her posture had become a little less tense with the departure of the men and decided to forge ahead. She tipped her head to the side, "Ms. Duquesne, do you know where we are?"

Louise watched Calleigh's eyes dart quickly around the room, lingering for a moment on the monitors, and she was surprised to see the younger woman shudder slightly. She slid a little closer and used her best 'Mom' voice, "It's okay, sweetie. We're at the Ryder Trauma Center in Miami. Your friends rescued you and we're going to help you get better."

"Not Haiti?" Calleigh's gaze shot to bed before looking back at Louise, her expression half-defiant, half-pleading, "I didn't say yes. I didn't."

Confused, Louise could only play along, "Of course you didn't. We know that." She edged closer. Ms. Duquesne was definitely growing calmer, "Sweetheart, you're hurt. You need to let us take care of you. If you don't want Dr. Nogales, we can find someone else." While she was talking, she carefully looked her patient over. There was blood on her arm from where the IV had come out but, despite Nogales' fears, it didn't look like the broken rib had caused any more damage. Cautiously, Louise reached out a hand and lightly touched Calleigh's leg. Encouraged when the blonde didn't pull away, Louise gave her a companionable smile, "You know, you're going to have to stop scaring your young man like this. His hair is going to turn prematurely gray."

"My... who?" Calleigh tensed, her eyes darting back and forth again.

Louise chided herself. That had been the wrong thing to say. She tried again, "Eric's been terribly worried about you."

Calleigh gave the nurse a startled look, "Eric?" Her eyes swept the room again as if she was half-expecting him to magically appear out of thin air, "Where?"

Louise nodded towards the door, "He's just outside, talking to Dr. Nogales. Don't worry, he'll be back. In the meantime, why don't we get off this floor?"

Calleigh shook her head and pulled back, her posture stiffening again.

Louise eyed her for a second and then asked quietly, "You don't want to or you can't?" The look she got was all the answer she needed. Louise smiled reassuringly, "Well then, we'll just have to give you a hand, won't we?" She kept it light while she considered the options. Given her patient's precarious mental state right now, orderlies were out of the question. She could probably manage by herself if she had to, but it would be better to have two people to keep the chance of more damage to a minimum. That left Nogales and CSI Delko. The choice was obvious. Louise patted Calleigh's knee, "Give me a moment and I'll get Eric to help. He's been wanting to see you."

*********

Eric followed the doctor out into the hallway and waited for the man to turn around. When he did, it was apparent that Dr. Nogales was seriously angry, "I want you out of here. Dr. Deluca allowed you to stay as a courtesy but I will not have you interfering with the treatment of my patient. There's no telling how badly she's injured herself. I should be in there treating her, not out here arguing with you!"

"Doctor," Delko glanced away for a moment as his hands clenched, trying to contain his own temper. "Do you have any idea how badly Calleigh will hurt herself fighting your orderlies? Because, believe me, she won't go quietly."

Nogales waved a hand in dismissal, "We're not amateurs, Mr. Delko, and sedation is the best way to handle the situation until Ms. Duquesne calms down on her own."

"You'll need a tranquilizer gun to get anywhere near her," Eric snapped. He folded his arms as his voice turned icy. It was the only way to keep himself from reaching out and thumping this arrogant jackass. "Do you have any idea what happened to her?"

Nogales shifted uneasily. He'd barely glanced at that part, being mostly concerned with the injuries themselves and how he planned to treat them. Not wanting to found lacking, he straightened his posture slightly, "Of course, what kind of doctor do you take me for?"

Delko gave Nogales a look that clearly said, 'Liar'. He took a deep breath, "Then you know that Calleigh was kidnapped by a serial killer, beaten, bound to a chair and tortured. She was barely conscious when he threw her into the ocean to drown." Anger bubbled again at what Owens had done and the glare he directed at Nogales was deadly, "The last thing she clearly remembers is being in the hands of that bastard and you don't think sending in a couple of strange men to hold her down while you, another stranger, tries to jab her with a needle is a bad idea?"

Nogales stiffened in irritated chagrin. Dammit, he should have read all of Duquesne's history. Deluca and Lindsay would have his head if he'd needlessly traumatized their patient more. He seldom made mistakes and having one this big pointed out by some dumb cop was especially aggravating. He glared back at Eric and pointed down the hallway, "Get out. You're the one who triggered her panic in the first place. We'll handle it from here."

"Mr. Delko?"

Both men turned around to find Louise standing in the doorway. She gestured to Eric, "I need some help getting Ms. Duquesne back to bed and I believe she's anxious to see you." She stopped Nogales with a look when he started forward, too, "Ms. Duquesne doesn't appear to have done any serious injury to herself. Once we get her settled, I'll let you know and you can confirm that. In the meantime, why don't you contact Jason and Dale and let them know what's going on? Tell them I'll check with them later to discuss a plan of treatment. Thank you." She turned back to the door with a somewhat bemused Eric beside her. Glancing over, she raised an eyebrow, "What?"

He kept his voice soft, "I thought nurses took orders from doctors, not the other way around."

She shrugged, "Usually, unless you're the head nurse and your team leader told the rookie to pay attention when you spoke." She opened the door quietly and then called in a cheery tone, "It's Louise again." She put a hand on Eric's arm as he started forward, "Easy does it, let her set the pace. I don't think she believes it's over."

He nodded and cautiously stepped around the bed, "Calleigh?"

Calleigh's head came up, "Eric?" Her eyes teared, "Oh thank god... "

He was beside her in a moment, carefully wrapping her in an embrace, "Everything's going to be fine, Querida. I've got you." Calleigh grabbed the front of his shirt, burying her head in his chest as her shoulders shook. Eric adjusted himself so that she was tucked under his chin, murmuring soothing inanities. He needed this as much as she did.

Louise gave them a little time and then crouched down, "Okay, Mr. Delko, let's get her off the floor." She reached out and touched Calleigh's shoulder, "Time to get up, hon. Let us do the work, hear?"

Eric looked over at Louise, "It's Eric and I can carry her."

The nurse nodded, "All right, but let me help you lift." Eric adjusted his hold, sliding an arm under Calleigh's legs and with Louise's asssistance, rose to his feet. Calleigh kept her eyes closed and jaw clenched, never uttering a sound.

It wasn't until they got near the bed that her eyes opened. She took one look and began to struggle, "No! Don't!"

Delko staggered, trying to maintain his grip and balance. "Calleigh! Stop it!" She didn't. If anything, her struggles grew more intense. He desperately sought out Louise to find her just hanging up the phone on the nightstand, "Help."

Louise moved to the door while pointing towards the bed, "Put her down." When he looked at her askance, Louise shook her head, "We're running out of options. Put her down and talk to her - try to calm her down."

He lost his balance as he tried to lower Calleigh to the bed, dropping her the last foot and just managing to avoid landing on top of her with a hand to either side. Eric winced at the bitten off exclamation of pain from Calleigh when the impact jarred the broken rib. She curled in on herself, holding her side. He felt horrible. He'd managed to stop her struggling by making it too damn painful to move. Delko reached over and gently brushed hair away from her face, "I'm so sorry, Cal. I didn't mean to hurt you."

He caught movement in his peripheral vision and turned in time to catch Louise twitching away Calleigh's gown, swabbing an area with alcohol and inserting a needle, all in one deft move. "Hold her, Eric," she said calmly, depressing the plunger and then pulling the hypodermic out. Surprised, Delko barely had time to brace a hand on Calleigh's shoulder as her eyes flew open in shock. Still on her side, she was effectively trapped, the injured rib denying her any sort of leverage to free her arms.

Eric stared at Louise, the question plain on his face. She held up a hand, checking her watch, and then moved over by Delko so she could address Calleigh, "I know that was a surprise, sweetie, but it was necessary. The shot I gave you will relieve the pain. It's going to make you sleepy, too, but I don't want you to worry, you're safe here." She gestured for Eric to release his hold. He let go cautiously, not sure how quickly the drug would take effect. He watched as Calleigh slowly succumbed, her eyes blinking as her body relaxed. Louise looked at her watch again and nodded approvingly, "Okay, let's get her settled and then I'll have Dr. Nogales check and make sure she really is okay."

Following Louise's directions, Eric helped get Calleigh more comfortably positioned on the bed. She didn't resist but her eyes laboriously followed his movements and he couldn't help feeling that she thought he'd betrayed her. Looking away, he saw Louise pull a long cloth out of the nightstand cabinet and frowned, "What are you doing?"

She glanced up as she fastened one end to lowest railing of the bed, "It's a soft restraint to keep her in bed. She was lucky this time, she really can't afford another fall like that."

"Louise... " Eric began warningly.

"Eric," she repeated in the same tone as she walked around to the other side of the bed. "This won't keep her from moving around in the bed but it will stop her from jumping out of it." Louise tied off the other end and checked Calleigh again. The blonde was hanging on by a thread, Louise nodded reassuringly. "You're doing fine, dear. It's okay to rest." She glanced over at Delko, "Eric will be here to make sure you stay safe."

She reached down to gather up the monitor leads and paused to sort them out. Delko put a hand out while watching Calleigh, "Are those really necessary? You're scaring her."

Louise looked from the leads to Calleigh in confusion for a few seconds and then her eyebrows rose, "Oh my, I hadn't thought of that." She frowned slightly and then turned abruptly back to the monitors, "We'll forego these for the time being, at least until Ms. Duquesne understands where she is. I'll talk to Dr. Deluca about it. It won't kill my nurses to do things the old-fashioned way for a bit." Coiling the leads, she placed them neatly on top of the monitors and turned back to Eric, her expression grimmer than he'd seen before, "You caught the man responsible for this, didn't you?"

His eyes hardened, "We did. He'll stand trial for this and more."

"Good," Louise nodded sharply as she headed for the door. "I'll be back in a minute with Dr. Nogales."

*********

Saturday,

3:45 pm

Calleigh slowly opened her eyes and blinked a few times, trying to clear her vision. Her body felt heavy and lethargic and, truth be told, her head wasn't far behind. What the hell had happened? Where was she? The last thing she remembered was... Calleigh's eyes widened in alarm. Where was that son of a bitch? She started to push herself up only to stop with a groan from the sharp pain in her side. Grimacing, she wiped at her eyes, trying to bring things into focus. Calleigh stopped and stared at her hand in surprise. It was free. The wrist was bandaged and ached like hell. For that matter, there wasn't much of her that didn't hurt in some way.

"Calleigh?"

Startled, she turned towards the voice, her fear spiking. Dear Lord, don't let it start again. She didn't have the strength. Was this why she wasn't tied anymore? He'd taunted her about that, usually following a more intense jolt that would leave her quivering bonelessly in the aftermath. The bastard was crazy as a loon and methodically cruel. Her heart began to race as she squinted at the approaching figure and then her stomach took a dizzying swoop. Oh god, that last time - it had gone on and on. She'd screamed herself breathless and it hadn't stopped. She'd begged and pleaded and it hadn't stopped. Somewhere along the line, everything had disappeared into a hazy blur of pain. He'd wanted her in bed in the worst way but she had to ask... oh god! He'd won and now she was going to get the hell she deserved. Calleigh squeezed her eyes shut.

"Calleigh? Can you hear me?" Ryan frowned as he neared the bed. He'd stepped out for just a couple of minutes but he could have sworn she'd been waking up when he walked back in. He looked down at the blonde and cautiously extended a hand. The pneumonia had finally made an appearance and despite prompt attention by the medical team, Calleigh had developed a fever. The doctors had spouted some sort of medical jargon about it but the head nurse, Louise, had been more succinct. Cal was worn out, making it easier for the pneumonia to take hold. Ryan stopped just short of touching her. Eric, after reluctantly agreeing to go home and rest for a little while, had filled him in on Calleigh's earlier panic. It scared him more than he cared to admit and he couldn't even imagine how worried Delko was. What if she couldn't bounce back from this?

Wolfe grabbed the chair he'd been sitting in earlier and slid it a little closer to the bed. "Calleigh? It's me, Ryan. Everything's okay now, you're going to be fine." He hoped to hell she'd be, anyway. The alternative didn't bear thinking about. Taking a breath, he reached out and lightly rested the back of his hand against the side of her face, feeling the heat radiating off. He got more of a reaction than he expected. Calleigh's eyes flew open as she pulled her head away, fear evident. Ryan's stomach fell. He couldn't remember when he'd ever seen that particular emotion out of her. When things got hairy, Calleigh got quiet, keeping everything under that steely control he knew so well. He leaned in, "Calleigh, look at me. It's Ryan."

She turned back a little, apprehension plain on her face. "Please. Don't," Her voice was thin and raspy.

With an effort, Ryan controlled the urge to gather her in his arms and try to push the demons away. He thought the world of the petite blonde and it hurt to see her like this. Calleigh was still lost in a confused haze and all they could do was ride it out. He did his best to smile reassuringly, "Sure, Calleigh, whatever you want. Why don't you rest? It's going to be okay." He pulled back out of her line of sight and waited quietly until she faded into oblivion before leaning forward to drop his head into his hands. He'd never been overly religious but when Eric got back, he'd go find the hospital chapel and have a serious talk with God.


	18. Chapter 18

Seven to go. Thanks for the reviews.

Chapter 18

Sunday,

7:35 am

Eric woke up and wearily rubbed his neck before turning to look at Calleigh. The good news was that the pneumonia seemed to be under control and her fever was down. The bad news was that they'd been keeping her mildly sedated since that first panic episode. He understood the reasoning. What worried him was that she'd never been more than semi-conscious since then and he suspected they'd inadvertently trapped her in that nightmare with Owens. He'd brought up his concerns with Louise and Deluca and while they conceded it was possible, neither were they anxious for a repeat of the performance that had led to her sedation. It was a classic Catch-22. Somehow, he had to break the cycle. The question was how? Eric thought it over while he continued to watch her sleep. He frowned a little. She was quiet right now but if things progressed like they had been, she should be waking soon from yet another horror-filled dream. Maybe that was it, maybe he needed to wake her now before the nightmares took hold.

Lowering the side rail, Eric settled on the bed next to Calleigh and lightly patted her shoulder, "Rise and shine, Cal. It's time to get up." He took one of her hands in his own and watched as she slowly roused. As her eyes fluttered open, he gave her a wide smile, "About time, sleepyhead. I've missed you."

"Eric?" She squinted up at him for a few seconds and then whispered, "Are you real?"

He gently squeezed her hand, "Very." Delko watched as she looked around the room. This was when she usually reacted badly - if he could just keep her attention on him, "It's over, Calleigh. We caught the bastard."

"What?" Calleigh grimaced slightly as she slowly brought a hand up to her temple. She was groggy and having a hard time remembering when she wasn't like this. That couldn't be right. What was wrong? It was giving everything a surreal appearance - including Eric.

"It's over," Eric repeated, starting to feel somewhat hopeful that she hadn't panicked yet. "Owens is in custody. He can't touch you again."

Calleigh stiffened, suddenly caught up in memory. She'd come to after a particularly intense session to find that SOB with his hands under her shirt. Tied as she was, there wasn't much she could do to physically resist so she'd resorted to calling him every name she could think of. Her years in law enforcement had made that list as long as it was colorful. He'd been shocked at first but then the rage kicked in and his reprisal had been vicious enough that she'd passed out again. Everything had grown worse after that as he'd become more obsessed that she give in...

"Calleigh?" Delko swore silently as her breathing began to accelerate. Dammit, she was sliding back into that maelstrom. "Listen to me. We've arrested Owens. You're safe." He reached out to smooth her hair back, trying to ignore how she flinched at his touch, "You're in the hospital. Your doctors have you on painkillers and that's why things are so hazy but I want you to try and concentrate. Can you do that?"

She stared up at him and he could see the fear. Eric took a deep breath, damning that psychopath for what he'd done and himself for not preventing it. "We caught Owens near the Inlet. He tried to keep from being caught by throwing you into the water. We rescued you and brought you here to the Ryder Trauma Center. I know it might not seem like it, but you're going to be fine." He stopped for a moment to assess her reaction. Although she was still staring at him, he could see her eyes going vacant. Anger coursed through him. How the hell could he convince her it was over when she was drugged half out of her mind? His jaw tightened, this had to stop. Delko waited until she'd gone under again before quietly removing himself from the bed. It was time to confront the doctors once more.

- - - - - -

Deluca folded his arms and regarded the two men in front of him. He turned his attention to the senior officer, "Lt. Caine, I realize this is hard to deal with but the alternative to sedating Ms. Duquesne is physical restraint and I think you'll agree that that would be even more traumatic."

"I understand that." Horatio's gaze slid away in frustration as he took a breath, "But you're making things worse." He'd stopped by the hospital in time to see Delko stalking out of Calleigh's room. Realizing the younger man was set for battle, Caine had headed him off. No matter how justified Eric might feel in his actions, if he disrupted the hospital, they'd kick him out the door. That would make this ordeal harder on both his CSIs. He'd hauled Delko to the cafeteria for coffee and to find out what the issue was. After listening to Eric, Horatio decided the young man was right and together, they'd sought out Calleigh's team.

Caine looked over at Dale Lindsay, the psychiatrist who would eventually be talking with Calleigh, "She's not an idiot. She knows there's something wrong every time she opens her eyes and the drugs are confusing her enough that she keeps jumping back to her captivity. Wouldn't it be better to let her fully wake up so you can talk to her?"

Lindsay shrugged his shoulders while glancing at Deluca, "Obviously, given my profession, I would prefer speaking with Ms. Duquesne but the problem is getting her settled enough to talk." He scratched his head and Horatio was once again drawn to the man's physical appearance. Dale Lindsay definitely required a second look. He was handsome enough to be a model or would have been had not his left side been horribly burned. The scarring started at his lower jaw and moved downward, including his left arm. Louise had mentioned that they were the result of injuries acquired during his military service in the Gulf War. To all outward appearances, Lindsay was remarkably at ease with his disfigurement.

"I can help," Delko offered, seeing a possible opening, "and Louise, too. Once Calleigh's ready to talk, we can pull out." He'd rather have Alexx there but the ME was supposed to be taking it easy for the next couple of days and her husband wouldn't thank him if he tried to get her here to help. Eric shot Horatio an apologetic look and received a reluctant nod in return. He knew that the Lieutenant wanted to be there, too, but didn't think it would be a good idea. Calleigh had an almost pathological need to appear strong and in control in front of her colleagues. She'd be mortified if Horatio saw her like this.

"Jason?" Lindsay raised an eyebrow. "This really isn't something we should let fester. You know her mental state is going to have an effect on her recovery."

Deluca frowned, "I know, I know." He looked at Horatio and Eric again, "All right, but if she has another episode, I don't want any arguments on my method of treatment." His expression softened slightly, "We all want the same thing, gentlemen. I will be thrilled to see Ms. Duquesne recover both physically and mentally from this as quickly as possible." Deluca glanced at his watch and turned to Louise, "Discontinue the sedation." He looked at the other men, "It will take a little while to dissipate but the drug should be pretty much out of her system by lunch time; however, she'll probably be awake well before that. Get yourselves ready, I've got a feeling it's going to be a bumpy ride." He turned and walked off.

Dale turned to Horatio and Eric, "We need to talk." Gesturing for them to follow, he headed down the corridor.

Eric watched him stride away and flashed a quick look at Louise. She made shooing gestures at him, "Go, we both have work to do." He shook his head and hurried after the psychiatrist and Horatio. Delko had the distinct feeling he wasn't going enjoy whatever was coming.

He caught up with Dale and the Lieutenant as they entered Lindsay's office. The doctor waved at some chairs as he stopped by the coffeemaker, "Either of you want a cup?" Eric declined, he'd had more coffee in the last couple of days than he'd usually had in a month. Horatio nodded and Dale filled two mugs, then looked at him, "How do you want it?"

"Black's fine, thanks," Horatio accepted the coffee, waiting for Lindsay to sit down before taking a sip. He was hard-pressed not to spit it back into the mug and gave the doctor a look, "It's a bit... strong."

Delko looked at his Lieutenant in surprise. Horatio didn't have a problem drinking his Cubano blends. This stuff must be like tar. Eric glanced away to hide his amusement at Caine's reaction. H always did have a flair for understatement.

Lindsay grinned around his mug, "Sorry, old Marine habits die hard." Growing serious, he tapped a file folder on his desk, "I have Ms. Duquesne's medical history. It's been a helluva couple of weeks." When the two men glanced at each other and then raised identical eyebrows, he held up a hand, "Yes, I know I'm stating the obvious." He leaned forward and folded his hands on the desk, "I need to know what you know about her ordeal and I'd like to get a clearer picture of Ms. Duquesne herself."

Horatio stared at him for a second before dropping his gaze to the mug in his hands. He hunched forward a bit so his elbows were resting on his knees and glanced at Eric, "That's going to take a while."

Sunday,

10:20 am

Eric strode wearily down the hallway towards Calleigh's room. It had been a draining experience with Dale Lindsay. Not only did he have to relive the horror Calleigh had been through but it was the first time he'd been forced to confront his feelings about it. He'd tried to evade that aspect while going over the case but Dale was persistent. He'd been worried about Horatio's reaction, but Lindsay had targeted the Lieutenant as well. That had been a hell of a sparring match that had ended in a draw. Delko knew they'd be visiting the subject again. He had the uncomfortable feeling that Lindsay thought the whole team needed counseling. Stetler would have a field day if he found out.

Reaching the doorway, Eric paused for a moment and then straightened his shoulders and went in. Quietly making his way to the all-too-familiar chair, he kept his eyes on Calleigh's sleeping form. If Dr. Deluca was correct, she would be waking soon and then the real challenge would begin. Horatio and Dale had agreed it would be best if he was with her when she woke. He sat down and reached over to hold her hand, unable to resist maintaining a physical contact. Settling in, Delko began the wait. It was another hour before she began to stir.

Calleigh slowly opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling. It seemed familiar and not at the same time. Confused, she let her gaze drift about the room. It didn't take long to deduce she was in a hospital and there was an odd feeling of satisfaction at reaching that conclusion. Was today the day she was getting released? Gradually realizing her hand was held in a warm, firm grip, she turned her head a little to the side and then smiled, "Hey."

"Hey yourself," Eric smiled quietly back, leaning forward a bit so that his forearms were resting on the bed.

She blinked slowly and then shuddered, tightening her hand in his, "I've been having the worst dreams." When Delko ducked his head, a small knot of dread began to grow, "Eric?"

He glanced up at her from under his eyebrows and then refocused on their hands, "Cal, they weren't dreams."

"No," she looked horror-stricken.

"It's over now, Calleigh. We caught the guy." Eric did his best to keep the guilt he was feeling from surfacing. Owens should never have gotten as far as he did.

"No," she whispered again. Delko watched as her gaze turned inward, knowing she was sorting through the memories. He took a breath, bracing himself. This could get ugly fast.

He started a little when she suddenly focused on him, "Where's Alexx? She was there." Eric hesitated just a moment too long and Calleigh's eyes widened in alarm, "Oh no, not Alexx. He didn't..."

"Calleigh, take it easy. It's okay. Alexx is home, resting." Eric jumped in hurriedly. He'd been debating with himself about how much to say. He didn't want to upset her but he also knew Calleigh wouldn't appreciate it if she found he was withholding information. He decided to approach the subject obliquely and hope she wouldn't ask, "She'll be fine."

No such luck. Calleigh stared at him, frowning, "She'll be fine? What happened?"

Delko tipped his head to the side with a small sigh, "What do you remember?"

"She was giving me a ride home," Calleigh started slowly and then looked over at him, "Horatio and Frank had a suspect."

The wrong damn one. Eric didn't voice that thought, just nodding encouragingly, "That's right."

"There was an accident," Calleigh's brow was furrowed in concentration and then she suddenly shut her eyes, "The officer that was following us, he's dead, isn't he?"

"That's not your fault," Eric said forcefully, knowing she was going to take that guilt on as well and trying to stop it.

She looked utterly unconvinced but continued on, "That bastard made us get in his SUV. I tried to delay. He didn't take it well. The next thing I knew, we were at a marina. He wanted us on his boat." Her voice faltered slightly, "I knew we'd never get off. I told Alexx to run and then I jumped the guy." Calleigh stared at Eric, "She got away, didn't she?"

"She did," Delko hesitated slightly, not wanting to upset her even more, "But she was shot."

Calleigh inhaled sharply and then winced, pressing a hand to her side, "What?!"

"It wasn't bad," Eric hurried to reassure her, trying not to feel hurt when she impatiently brushed his hand off her shoulder. She was upset and angry, more than likely with herself, but he was the messenger. "The hospital only kept her overnight. She's home now with her family."

"My fault," Calleigh muttered, angrily blinking back tears. She turned her head away, "Could you... would you mind leaving for a little bit? I - I'm tired. I think I'd like to rest for a while."

Eric stared at her worriedly. This wasn't good. "Are you sure? I don't mind staying." He tried a tentative smile, "I like watching you sleep."

"Eric, please." She wouldn't look at him but he could hear the edge of desperation in her voice.

"Okay," he stood up and then bent over, daring to press a light kiss to her temple. "I won't be far if you need me." Eric watched her for a moment and then said softly, "I love you, you know." He couldn't tell if she heard. Straightening, he turned and strode out of the room. Once out, he moved a little ways down the hall before stopping to lean against the wall. Closing his eyes, he rubbed his forehead, silently berating himself. There had to have been a better way to handle that.

"Not going smoothly?"

Delko opened his eyes to find Louise watching him. He sighed, looking down at the floor, "No. She's closing herself off."

"But she didn't panic."

That elicited a short bark of laughter. Eric shook his head, "No, she didn't panic but she's remembering things that I wish she wouldn't." He gave Louise a look, "She chased me out just now. I told her about Alexx."

Louise gazed speculatively down the hallway towards Calleigh's room, "It's nearly lunchtime. Go find something to eat. I'll give Ms. Duquesne a few more minutes and then deliver her meal personally. Maybe I can get her to talk to me. Sometimes it's easier with a stranger."

Delko nodded slowly. He didn't feel like eating in the least but it wouldn't hurt to take some time to clear his head. "Okay, I'll be back in an hour."

- - - - -

Louise tapped on the door and then stepped inside, "Ms. Duquesne? I've brought your lunch." She didn't expect an answer so she wasn't really surprised at the lack of response. Pulling out the tray, she put the lunch down. "You need to eat, hon. You need to get your strength back." Louise smiled, knowing it would show in her voice, "The food here is actually not bad. I've seen people eat it and live to tell the tale."

"I'm not hungry." Calleigh kept her eyes closed and her head turned away.

Louise nodded sympathetically, "I know, sweetie." She paused for a moment, "Your young man didn't look like he felt like eating either when I suggested it earlier."

The phrasing sounded familiar. Calleigh finally turned her head to look at the nurse, her expression somewhat puzzled, "I know you, don't I?"

"We've met although you were a bit upset at the time. We haven't actually been introduced," Louise stated matter-of-factly. "I'm Louise Vanderosen, the head trauma nurse of your medical team."

'Upset.' That was one way to put it. Calleigh could recall vivid snatches of what she'd thought was a nightmare. She stared down at her hands, resisting the urge to pick at the bandages on her wrists. They still hurt. She kept her eyes down, "You mean when I freaked out."

"You were upset and confused," Louise stated firmly, "And for very good reason. Don't blame yourself for that."

Calleigh snorted and then winced. She was getting damned tired of hurting every time she moved.

Louise folded her arms with a small frown, "It was a natural reaction to waking up in a strange place after everything you'd been through. I've seen the reports, it would have worried me more if you hadn't reacted in some way." She tilted her head to the side, "You don't know me from Adam so this probably doesn't mean much, but I think you're a remarkable person to have survived what you did."

Calleigh squeezed her eyes shut and turned her head away once more, whispering softly, "But I didn't."


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Sunday,

2:15 pm

Calleigh sighed as she heard the door open. She'd had a little over an hour to herself after Louise had finally left and it had both been too little and too much time to dwell on what had happened. At least she was thinking clearly. Not being able to put two coherent thoughts together had added to the nightmare. The line between past and present kept blurring and between the painkillers and whatever the hell else they were pumping in, she'd been stripped of any sort of defense. Now, finally, she had a firmer grasp on reality. Unfortunately, it also meant she remembered what she'd seen of herself after Owens had brutally ripped away every facade.

"Ms. Duquesne?"

She closed her eyes for a moment before looking over towards the door. Innate courtesy kept her from doing more than lifting an eyebrow, "May I help you?"

Dale Lindsay shook his head and chuckled softly, "I believe that's my line." He gestured towards the chair, "May I?" When she nodded, he sat down and leaned back, "I'm Dr. Lindsay. You might have heard Louise mention me?"

"Yes," Calleigh's gaze dropped to her hands, "You're the one who gets to decide if I'm going out of my mind." It was hard to keep the aggravation out of her voice. She was a product of the Deep South, growing up in a culture that embraced rather than condemned lunacy. One did not consult shrinks or ship beloved Grammy Betts off to a mental institution just because she occasionally took potshots at suspected Northern spies. You made sure the old dear's gun was unloaded and fondly showed her off at neighborhood gatherings along with the crazies from all the other families. Now a perfect stranger was going to tramp around in her head and then hand out some pronouncement that would impact her personal and professional life. He was probably a Yankee, too.

Dale gave her a mild look, "Are you?"

"Aren't you supposed to tell me?" Calleigh glared at him and then looked away again. The few psychiatrists she'd met in her lifetime had usually managed to annoy her with their non-committal, buck-passing 'gosh-what-do-you-think?' schlock.

"I'd say you were angry. I haven't talked to you long enough to decide if you're crazy." Lindsay absently rubbed under his jaw, "Believe me, Ms. Duquesne, I would like nothing better than to cut you loose and let you get on with your life but this thing you've gone through will come back and bite you in the ass, probably at the worst possible moment, and I'd rather that didn't happen."

Calleigh gave him a jaundiced look, "And you're going to wave a magic wand and make me forget what I've been through?"

Dale grinned slightly, "Would if I could, but I don't have to tell you the mind's a tricky thing. A sound, a smell, a word and suddenly you're back in the middle of your worst nightmare." He shifted a little and rested his chin on his hand, "It's already happening, isn't it?"

"And if I say yes, it's off to the loony bin?" Calleigh stared at her hands as she slowly twisted the bedsheet into a knot.

"Not unless you want to go there." Dale swallowed a sigh. Lt. Caine, no slouch at stubbornness and evasion, had warned him that Calleigh wouldn't enter into these sessions easily. Growing up as her parents descended into alcoholism had forced her into a parenting role before she'd hit puberty. Shouldering that responsibility while faced with the rigid decorum of Southern society had taught her to internalize her problems. That she hadn't shattered under the pressure but, instead, had excelled was a testament to her strength of will. It was a double-edged sword. That iron determination would see her through this trauma or completely break her.

Calleigh rubbed her forehead before staring absently at the far wall, "Maybe I ought to."

Dale leaned forward, "Why?"

She dropped her hand to scowl at him, "How about being terrified of this bed? That crazy enough for you? Every time I wake up, it's the same panic until I can convince myself it's okay."

"Sounds to me like you're handling it." Lindsay tilted his head, "Can you tell me what happened on the boat?"

Tensing, Calleigh looked away, "I don't remember all of it." She wished she didn't remember any of it. What she could recall was killing her.

"Ms. Duquesne," Dale said softly, "If it's any help, the rape kit came back negative." When she didn't respond, he sat back, "Perhaps it would be easier if we started at the beginning."

That got a reaction. Calleigh turned to glare at him, "And which beginning would that be? The one where that son of a bitch shoved a knife in my back or the one where he murdered a policeman, shot Alexx and dragged me onto that damn boat for his fun and games?"

Dale stared at her for a long moment, "None of which was your fault."

"The hell it wasn't," Calleigh growled quietly, looking away again.

"You are not responsible for the acts of a sociopathic serial killer." Dale pointed out.

"I should have stopped him. I should have been stronger, smarter... something. I'm a trained police officer. I'm supposed to do better." Calleigh squeezed her eyes shut as she suppressed a shudder.

"Bull." Dale stated bluntly, "You were ambushed. There wasn't anything you or anybody else could have done."

"That's bull," Calleigh shot back. "There's always something."

Dale leaned forward again, "As far as I know, your job description states that you're supposed to protect and serve, not leap tall buildings in a single bound. Are you telling me you didn't do the best you could under the circumstances?"

"It wasn't good enough," Calleigh snapped.

"That's not what I asked," Dale watched her carefully. There was a lot going on here that he needed to unravel and dealing with her guilt-fueled anger was first on the list. "Do you think you did the best you could considering the circumstances?"

"No." At the skeptical look on Dale's face, Calleigh turned her head away, "Maybe. That's not the point anyway."

"What is?"

"It was my fault."

The words were so quietly spoken, Dale wasn't sure he heard correctly. He canted his head to one side, "What?"

"I said it was my fault! I found evidence that probably would have nailed this guy right from the start and I lost it!" Calleigh pushed herself partially upright, keeping an arm tucked tightly against her side.

"Lost? Try taken." Dale started to reach a hand forward, "I've talked to Lt. Caine and seen the medical report. You were damn lucky to have survived that attack."

"And if I'd been paying attention to my surroundings, I might have stopped him."

"Or you might have died," Dale shook his head, "The fact is you were badly wounded and in no position to prevent your attacker from taking anything. Playing 'what if' is pointless and unproductive and, frankly, I don't take you for the self-pitying type."

Calleigh stifled a cough as she began to list to one side, her energy level deserting her along with her anger. What was the point? No one seemed willing to acknowledge her ultimate responsibility. That one lapse had precipitated a series of events that she wasn't sure she could live with, "You don't understand."

Dale got up and carefully helped Calleigh back into a more comfortable position, "I understand that you feel you should have been able to stop this guy but I want you to consider the fact that this man was a serial killer. From what Lt. Caine has said, he's been at it for years. If you want to dwell on something, dwell on this: he failed and you survived. That's a first." Lindsay remained standing, studying her. She looked worn out, "I think we've done enough for an opening session. We can meet again tomorrow if you have no objections." He smiled when she nodded silently, "I'll send Eric in when I leave. I imagine he's been hovering."

"Thank you," Calleigh replied wearily.

Dale gave her a reassuring smile as he moved towards the door, "It will get better, Ms. Duquesne. You've got a lot of people in your corner. Did you know your Mr. Delko has refused to leave your side since that first night? I understand Louise was afraid we'd wind up having to hospitalize him as well."

At Calleigh's startled look, Dale shook his head, "Don't worry, he's fine. Do you remember your rescue?"

She froze and Dale cursed himself silently at the horror that darkened his patient's eyes. He hadn't wanted to go there yet. "I was on fire," the blonde whispered at last, "And then I couldn't breath."

"Look at me, Ms. Duquesne," Dale said firmly, "You're here. It's over. That man can't hurt you again. You'd been thrown into the water and Mr. Delko dove in after you."

"Eric rescued me?" Calleigh made a determined effort to focus on that, shoving the rest into a dark little corner.

Lindsay folded his arms, deciding that vacillation was counterproductive at this point, "It was a joint effort. You'd gone fairly deep when Eric finally reached you. He nearly ran out of air trying to get you back to the surface. Fortunately, Lt. Caine was there to help you both. The Coast Guard took over after that."

"He almost drown?" Calleigh couldn't quite contain the tremor in her voice. Oh god, he might have died because of her.

"He's fine," Dale repeated, "except for worrying himself over you." He eyed the blonde carefully, "You do know you mean a good deal to him?" Aside from a 'it's-none-of-your-business' attitude, Delko had been pretty easy to read. His biggest fear seemed to be that he would somehow drive her away. The Lieutenant had been a more interesting exercise in verbal chess. He wouldn't commit to anything. Dale was beginning to wonder if every male on that team was somewhat in love with this woman. Did she realize it?

Calleigh raked a distracted hand through her hair, unable to decide if she was angry or grateful for the danger Eric had put himself in for her. The guilt was a given, "I know."

"Then don't be afraid to let him in," Dale arched an eyebrow at her, "I'm assuming you feel the same for him?"

"Yes, I - ," Calleigh stopped, unable to believe she'd blurted that out to someone who was essentially a stranger. Dammit, now what? She couldn't quite bring herself to look at the doctor, "He shouldn't have risked it. If he'd... I - it wasn't worth his life." Definitely not now - she managed to keep that part to herself.

"The hell it wasn't." Dale looked over his shoulder to see Eric standing in the partially opened doorway.

Surprised, Calleigh's head whipped around, forcing a soft exclamation of pain as partially healed lacerations protested. She stared at Eric as he stood there, unable to say anything else. She had no idea where to begin.

Lindsay tilted his head to the CSI, "Nice timing, I was just leaving."

Eric gave the man a dry look, "I do my best." He turned his attention to Calleigh, "May I?"

She nodded, still silent. Dale looked from one to other and quietly excused himself. Whether Delko knew it or not, phase two of Ms. Duquesne's healing process was about to begin. Lindsay had faith in the man's instincts.

Delko stepped to the side to let Dale by, never quite taking his eyes off Calleigh. Once the doctor was gone, Eric walked up to the bed and stood there, not quite sure what to do with his hands. Maybe he should start wearing sunglasses everywhere like Horatio. It would give him something to fidget with, "Mind if I sit down?" When she shook her head, he settled on the edge of the bed and silently stared at his hands. After several moments, he glanced at her and then looked away, "I know I don't the right to ask, but do you think you might forgive me?"

"Forgive you?" Calleigh's voice cracked slightly as she stared at him. A moment later, she began to laugh. It began softly at first but quickly grew until she was hunched over holding her injured side. Eric watched her in consternation until he heard the beginnings of hysteria. Reacting automatically, he had the side rail down and was carefully gathering her in his arms almost before he realized what he was doing. Calleigh turned into his embrace, her laughter changing to sobs. One hand stayed clutching her side, while the other pounded rhythmically on his chest until he managed to trap it. He stayed that way until it seemed the worst of the emotional storm had passed.

Relaxing his hold somewhat, he cautiously waited for her to make the next move. This was new territory and Eric wasn't sure how much of the old rules applied. He knew Calleigh went to great lengths to maintain a strong front. In all the years he'd known her, he'd never seen her so out of control. Hopefully, she wouldn't try to distance herself over this breakdown because he had no intention of allowing it. Unable to help himself, he planted a soft kiss on top of her head, murmuring, "I'm so sorry, Cal."

His eyes widened in surprise when she forcefully shoved herself away from him, wrapping both arms around her middle. "Stop saying that," she snapped, her voice tight with pain. "Just stop."

He stared at her for a moment. She looked angry and desperate and... something else? Delko slowly shook his head, "I don't know if I can."

She pulled in tighter, he could almost see the walls slamming up. "Then get out. I can't... Eric, please, go."

His shoulders perceptibly slumped as his eyes dropped to the floor and part of her was appalled at the hurt she'd just inflicted. Eric was always considerate of her. Back off meant just that to him, however reluctant he felt about it. Therefore, it was doubly shocking when he raised his head, looked her in the eye and said, "No."


	20. Chapter 20

It's the home stretch - 5 more to go. Thank you for the reviews and please enjoy.

Chapter 20

Sunday,

3:20 pm

Pure surprise gave Eric a small opening of opportunity and he leapt at it before Calleigh could regroup and slam the door on him once more, "Don't do this. Don't let that son of a bitch win. Not now, not when we've barely started. I don't think I could stand it." He looked down at his hands. Clenching them into fists, he looked back up, "Talk to me, Calleigh. I won't insult you by saying I'd understand even a tenth of what you've been through but I promise you, at the end of the day, I'll still be here for you. Nothing you can say will change that, so don't even try."

"Eric," Calleigh tiredly wiped at her face. "It's too late. Please, for both our sakes, just let go."

"I can't. I won't." Eric edged a little closer, "Talk to me." When she shook her head again, he felt a deepening sense of panic. What had that bastard done? He was scared enough to beg, "Calleigh, please. Don't shut me out."

Calleigh closed her eyes for a moment. She should have known, hell, she did know, that Eric never stepped away from anything or anyone that he considered worth fighting for. Lord help her, this was a no-win either way. If she didn't talk, he'd tear himself apart for not stopping this in the beginning and if she did, she'd get to deal with his pity and well-concealed disappointment. What a choice - she could push him away or watch as he pulled away.

"Calleigh," Eric's voice broke in, low and edged with desperation.

With an almost imperceptible slump of her shoulders, Calleigh gave up. However much it hurt, she would have to tell him the truth and deal with the consequences. She rubbed at her forehead, how to start and where? Taking a breath, she steeled herself and began, "Ever read 'To Kill a Mockingbird'?" Calleigh glanced over and saw him nod his head, looking somewhat baffled at the apparent change of subject. "Darnell is Louisiana's version of Maycomb, Georgia. It's a sleepy old southern town where everybody has been there forever and they all know everything about everyone else. If you sneeze before going to bed, half the people you meet the next morning will ask how your cold is and the other half will be shaking their heads over your family's inclination towards respiratory complaints."

He smiled at that and nodded encouragingly although the worry in his face seemed stronger. Calleigh sighed quietly and started to ease herself back against the pillows. She tensed for a split second when Eric's arm was suddenly across her shoulders taking some of the weight. "Thanks," she murmured, not quite looking at him. She studied her hands instead, "Harper Lee understood Southerners. Remember that line in the opening chapter? '...they were Haverfords, a name in Maycomb county that was synonymous with jackass.'? It's the same in Darnell. The LeBlancs have a stubborn streak, Johnstons tend towards ulcers and Cliftons argue about everything." She finally looked up at Eric, "Want to know what they say about the Duquesnes?"

"Calleigh," Eric said quietly, "You don't have to do this." He wasn't quite sure he was going to like where she was heading, but at least she was talking to him. As long as she was talking, he figured he had a chance.

Calleigh shook her head, her hands clenching slightly, "They say, 'The Duquesnes start strong.'" She shot a quick glance at him, her eyes bright with unshed tears, "I thought... I was so sure I was going to be the exception to that damned rule."

Delko carefully eased a hand up to cover hers. They felt ice-cold. He shifted slightly, so he could sandwich her hands between his. "Your hands are freezing," he commented as he started to rub them lightly. Eric looked up at her, "Are you cold?" She shook her head, her attention now focused on their hands. He cleared his throat softly, "Calleigh, Querida, you are the exception." He tightened his grip as she started to pull away, "Listen to me. You are one of the strongest people I know." A thin thread of panic began to blossom as Eric felt her start to withdraw behind the walls again. Desperate, he changed tactics completely, "You are also, without exception, one of the most exasperating and pigheaded women I have ever met."

She stared at him in wide-eyed surprise and he gripped each of her hands, determined to at least keep her physically connected to him. He gave her a dry smile, "It's what I'm counting on to get us through this." Eric settled himself a little more firmly, "I'm not asking as a CSI, Calleigh. If you don't want to tell me what happened, that's okay. We can talk about the weather, favorite foods or your neighbor's cat. Just talk to me." The defeated look on her face when she started talking about her family and herself had been wrenching. Calleigh rarely let vulnerability and despair out for everyone to see. This wasn't the woman he was used to. It wasn't that he didn't know this side of her existed; he'd seen glimpses and thanks to Horatio and Dale, he knew more than he really needed to about her childhood. He would never understand how her parents could have treated her that way.

Calleigh ducked her head, making a determined effort not to cry again. Damn him for being so understanding, for giving her an out. Her resolve was crumbling. She wasn't normally a weepy person and she hated the emotional rollercoaster she seemed to be on. Once she finally thought she could control herself, Calleigh looked up to see Eric watching her, concern clearly visible. She plastered on a bit of a smile and said, "His name's Lionel Skritchie." The look on Delko's face was nearly worth a chuckle. "My neighbor's cat."

His eyebrows rose as he smiled, "I almost hate to ask if they have a dog."

Her smile grew more genuine, "Barkus Welby, but they call him Doc."

Eric winced and gave a mock shudder, "Tell me they don't have kids."

Calleigh shook her head and grimaced slightly. The lacerations on her neck were beginning to ache, too. She couldn't help trembling as the memory of that first jolt overwhelmed her. It had caught her completely by surprise and she'd hit the restraints hard in an automatic escape reaction. When the white hot agony had abruptly ceased, it'd left her limp and gasping. It had taken a few seconds to realize that the warmth on her neck was blood. That was all she'd had time for before the second jolt hit her and the nightmare began.

Gradually, Calleigh became aware that a pair of warm hands were comfortingly rubbing her upper arms. She raised her eyes and looked into Eric's worried gaze. He ducked his head a little, studying her from under his eyebrows, "Where were you?"

"Hell." She didn't fight him as he gently wrapped his arms around her. Wearily, she rested her head on his chest wondering how to tell him that his somewhat rose-colored opinion of her wasn't true and apparently never had been. It had been a bitter realization that she'd been deluding herself all these years. It had taken that son of a bitch only a couple of hours to prove that her life was a lie, that she was a spineless, pathetic hypocrite.

Delko shifted a bit so that she was tucked under his chin while he considered what to do. He wished he knew what the hell Owens had been trying to accomplish beyond hurting her. Whatever his purpose, he must have come damn close to achieving it if Calleigh's current mental state was any indication. Eric let out a quiet sigh as he resisted the urge to tighten his hold on her. Somehow he had to get her to open up. He knew Dale had already begun to talk to her. What he didn't know was whether she'd given the doctor anything to work with. On a good day, Calleigh could be tightlipped as hell and this was far from a good day.

Giving her a quick kiss on top of the head, he forced himself to relax, "Hey, did you hear about the Darwin case Ryan investigaged the other day?" Feeling her shake her head, he chuckled softly, "Seems a Mr. Larkin had a container of old gas that he needed to get rid of and a bunch of moles he wanted to get rid of and he decided to kill two birds with one stone."

Calleigh pulled back enough to look at him, grateful for the change of subject, "He didn't."

"He did," Eric grinned. "He emptied 5 gallons of gas into the tunnels crisscrossing his lawn, figuring the smell and the fumes would drive the little beasts away. Once that was done, he pulled his Harley out of the garage to work on it."

"Oh no," Calleigh was beginning to smile.

"Oh yes. An hour or so later, he finished working on the bike, hopped on and started it up." Delko paused for effect, "A spark from the engine ignited the fumes and his whole front lawn blew up."

"Oh my lord," Calleigh laughed quietly, keeping a hand on her side. "Mr. Larkin survived?"

Eric nodded, pleased to have lightened her mood somewhat, "Bruises and some minor burns - and the Harley's going to need some more work." He adopted a solemn look, "No word on mole casualties, though."

They grinned at each other and Calleigh tilted her head to one side, "I've got one for you. Did I ever tell you about the woman who tried to kill her husband with peanut butter?"

Eric shook his head, "He was allergic?"

"No, but he was diabetic." Calleigh relaxed back into the pillows while maintaining a grip on Eric's hand. Bless the man for doing his best to take her mind off things. He always knew the right tone to take with her. It was one of the many things she loved about him. Stepping away from him was going to hurt like hell but it would be for the best. Eric deserved better than what little she had left to offer. Suddenly realizing her pause had grown too long, Calleigh flashed him a quick smile and continued her story, "This was back in New Orleans. A friend of mine, Barton Tribideaux, caught the case. Seems the husband woke up one morning to find the sheets at the foot of the bed were soaked in blood. He'd lost part of his toes."

Delko frowned, "He didn't wake up when it happened?"

Calleigh shook her head, "No, his diabetes was at the stage where he'd lost all sensation in his feet. Anyway, his wife took him to the Emergency Room where they fixed him up and sent him home. About a month later, the same thing happens. He wakes up, the bed is soaked in blood and he's missing more toes. They go to the ER again and wind up with the same doctor. He gets suspicious and calls the police. Barton shows up, reads the files and they confront the wife. Turns out she was coating her husband's toes with peanut butter and letting the family dog munch on them, hoping he'd bleed to death in the middle of the night."

Eric stared at her, "I'm not sure which is worse, the fact that the wife thought she could kill her husband that way or that the family dog didn't stop with licking the peanut butter." He raised an eyebrow and smiled, "Just in case, I think we'll need to set some rules - no peanut butter if there's a dog in the house."

Calleigh's eyes widened. "What did you say?" she asked weakly.

Somewhat perplexed by her reaction, Delko ran over his last statements and then stopped. Oh. He ducked his head and gave her a sheepish grin, "Well, um, it seems like we'll need to do something to ease the transition. We're both pretty independent and having some ground rules in place would probably help until we get used to each other's routines, but if you want a dog and peanut butter..." He trailed off. Babbling wasn't term he'd ever associated with himself but there he'd been, rambling on.

Calleigh stared at him in shock and not a small amount of panic. Now he was talking about sharing a place? God above, she needed to stop this before it went any further. "Eric."

"Calleigh, don't," Delko interrupted quickly, knowing he'd upset her again. A knock on the door saved him from her response and he looked gratefully at the nurse standing there with a small tray. Standing up, he gave Calleigh a quick smile, "Look, I'll come back a little later, okay? We can talk more then." Turning on his heel, he hurried from the room, fully aware he was running. He couldn't help it. It made him feel like a coward but he also knew he wouldn't be able to stand it if she'd said what he thought she going to say - that she wanted to end their relationship before it even got properly started.

Once he was safely down the corridor, Eric stopped and braced a shoulder against the wall, closing his eyes for a moment. What the hell had that sick bastard done? There'd been no evidence of any type of sexual assault. It had obviously been on the agenda judging from what he and Ryan had found but Owens hadn't reached that stage when they caught him. That he had tortured and traumatized her was equally obvious. Somehow the man had punched a hole through Calleigh's formidable defenses and scored a direct hit on her psyche.

"Eric?"

Deja vu. He turned to see Louise watching him. Pushing off the wall, he gave her a half-smile, "We have to stop meeting like this. People will talk."

She folded her arms, looking surprisingly like Alexx when the ME was about to cut through whatever smokescreen he was trying to throw, "What's wrong?"

Eric glanced down the hallway for a second before shifting his gaze to his feet, "I wish I knew." He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly before looking up at the nurse, "She's pushing me away and I don't know why."

Louise eyed him, "Don't you?" She turned and gestured for Delko to follow, "I'm going to get some coffee. Come with me."

Uncharacteristically at a loss, Eric fell into step with her. He didn't usually drink coffee at this time of day but maybe the caffeine would jumpstart his brain. 'Don't you?' He turned Louise's words over in his head. Did he really know what the problem was? He blinked in surprise when Louise stopped in front of an office door. He'd been expecting to go to the cafeteria or some sort of break room and hadn't been paying attention to where she was headed. He turned to look at Louise.

She gestured towards the door, "You need to talk to Dale again." Louise gave him a smile, "And his coffee is considered an alternative energy source around here - providing you survive it." Turning, she rapped on the door and then opened it, sticking her head in, "Dale? I have Mr. Delko here. Do you have a couple of minutes?"

Eric heard the rumbling affirmative and then Louise was practically shoving him into the office. She gave him another reassuring smile as she shut the door.

"Eric, come in and have a seat." Dr. Lindsay glanced up from his computer screen and then resumed typing, "I'll be done in just a second."

Delko walked over to a chair and sat down, mulling over what had happened. He was fairly certain Calleigh still cared for him and he knew his feelings hadn't changed and yet, here he was, hiding in Dale Lindsay's office so he wouldn't have to hear her tell him to get out of her life. Knowing her as he did, she had to be doing this for what she thought was his own good.

"What happened?"

Eric looked up from his musing to see Dale watching him. He shifted back in his chair, "Calleigh's putting walls up again." He paused for a moment and then shook his head in frustration, "I wish I knew what kind of mind game Owens played with her. I swear, it's like she's suddenly decided she's not good enough for me."

Dale raised an eyebrow, "Suddenly?"

Surprised by the Doctor's question, Eric's eyes narrowed, "What are you getting at?"

"I understand that she's second-in-command at the lab?" Delko nodded slowly and Dale continued, "She's smart, good at her job and highly disciplined. I imagine she took on the extra responsibility without blinking an eye, correct? So you'd think her self esteem would be through the roof." Again, Eric nodded silently, wondering where the hell the psychiatrist was going.

"I suspect that self-esteem extends no further than her professional life. That she's good at being in charge is because she's been doing it since she was a kid." Dale tilted his head, "You heard Lt. Caine. She's the oldest child of alcoholic parents. Since she and her siblings didn't wind up in foster care, someone had to have stepped up and held the family together. I would guess Ms. Duquesne moved into the role of parent by the time she was 9 or 10. That's a hell of a thing to deal with when you're just a kid. I'll lay money she felt responsible in some way for her parents' drinking - it's a typical reaction for children of alcoholics. Somehow, it had to be her failures that made them the way they were. So, in addition to keeping the family functioning on a day to day basis, she's driven towards perfection in the desperate belief that it will make everything better."

"I guess," Eric murmured quietly, half to himself. He hadn't really thought about how different their childhoods had been. He couldn't begin to imagine what his life might have been like if his parents had been the same way.

Dale propped an elbow on the chair arm and rested his chin, "The problem, of course, is that she can never be perfect - and the failures pile up. Now this has happened and, mistaken as she may be about it, it's a spectacular failure on her part. Of course she's doesn't think she's good enough for you - or anyone else."

"Damn," Eric scowled.

"Now this is mostly speculation on our part. Aside from her professional life, did you know anything else about her past? Other than what Lt. Caine mentioned the other day?" Lindsay watched the CSI carefully.

Eric glanced away, "No, not much, really. I knew about her father - I've met him, and I knew she has brothers but that's about it. She's a private person. I've respected that."

Dale's voice was soft, "But if you wanted to, you could find out, right?"

Delko straightened suddenly, glaring, "That son of a bitch."

"I agree," Dale steepled his fingers together. "Guilt's a powerful weapon with the right opening. Add physical torture and you've got a combination that could break the strongest will." He watched silently as Delko heaved himself out of the chair and began to pace in the small office. Dale cleared his throat, gaining Eric's attention, "There's no evidence of sexual assault but she's been absolutely terrified to find herself in a bed. I think we can guess what his goal was. Odds are he probably enjoyed telling her what she had to look forward to."

Delko scowled as he gave Dale a hard look, "The bed on board the Esmerelda had physical restraints built into it. Owens could have put her there at any time and done whatever he wanted."

Dale tilted his head, "But mere physical dominance wasn't his goal or he would've sexually assaulted her right from the start."

Eric tried not to think about the other items they'd found. Calleigh might have survived physically from their use, but mentally, he wasn't so sure. His eyes widened slightly as realization hit, "Oh my god."

"What?" Dale leaned forward at the horror-stricken expression on Eric's face.

Delko turned to look at him, "He was killing her mind."


	21. Chapter 21

Here's the next installment. Thank you to everyone who took the time to review. I have no idea why the last chapter took so long to show up - probably just a glitch on fanfiction's end. I've noticed the site's problems tend to crop up around weekends. Anyway, I feel the need to reiterate what I stated at the beginning of this story. This takes place around Season 3, after Speed's death but before Hagen's suicide. Therefore, going by canon, Eric and Calleigh do not become a couple yet. There's still Natalia and Eric and Calleigh and Jake. They do remain friends and they are still attracted to each other but they will continue to dance around the issue. Soooo... if you want to stop reading now, I completely understand.

Chapter 21

Sunday,

2:40 pm

Calleigh shifted restlessly, unable to find a position that didn't ache somehow. She'd managed to chase Eric away for a time but there was little comfort in that. He would view it as a temporary setback and she needed to make it permanent. She wanted him badly but it was better this way. Rubbing her face, Calleigh gazed up at the ceiling. That slimeball had beaten her in more ways than one and while she had to live with the consequences, there was no way she was going to make Eric suffer with it, too. He didn't deserve to be dragged down with her.

One thing she did know for certain, she couldn't stay in Miami. As much as she loved living here, it would be too damn hard to avoid him and it would kill her if she ruined any future chance he might have at happiness. Distance, hopefully, would help them both. Calleigh exhaled slowly and squeezed her eyes shut. Who was she kidding? No amount of distance was going to fix what was wrong with her but it might make it easier to deal with. At this point, dealing was the best she could do.

She'd put some feelers out and see what came up. E.Z. 'Street' Larkin, out of Atlanta, was always after her to jump to his lab. Perhaps it was time to see if he was serious about the offer. A light tap on the door gave her a bit of warning and she carefully schooled her features into a neutral expression.

"Calleigh, darlin'?"

"Daddy?" Calleigh stared in surprise as the door opened to reveal a nervous-looking Kenwall Duquesne. With a pang of guilt, she realized she'd assumed he was somewhere drowning his sorrows over the intractability of his only daughter. After their last exchange, she hadn't really expected to see him. The row they'd had during her first hospital stay had been the first time since she'd left Darnell that he'd lost his temper with her. It had been bad on a number of levels, not the least of which were the memories it dragged up. The only thing that kept it from getting completely out of hand was the presence of the cop in her room. Ever since he'd begged his way back into her life here in Miami, he'd been on his best behavior - if one didn't count the bouts of drinking. As unpleasant as those lapses were, they could and had been so much worse.

Duke Duquesne was normally a cheerful and easy-going man, but he was also capable of terrifying rages, more so when fueled by alcohol. Growing up, those had been the times when Calleigh had gathered her brothers and gotten out before he really got rolling. Once in a while, she'd misjudge and have to stay to bear the brunt of his anger in order to protect her siblings. Her mother, usually lost in her own haze, was no help. She'd barricade herself in the bathroom until Kenwall's rage had cooled or he passed out. Eventually she'd emerge and throw her own two cents in, typically blaming Calleigh for provoking her father in the first place.

"Oh lord, Lambchop. Are you okay?"

Startled out of her memories, Calleigh mustered up a smile, "I'm fine, Dad. You know how doctors like to be overly cautious."

"And run up their bill," Kenwall agreed with relief as he walked to the bed. He'd really blown it the last time he'd visited and he wasn't sure if she'd want to see him or not. Losing his temper hadn't been the plan but he'd been scared and she just wouldn't listen. He was her father, she was supposed to listen, especially when he'd gone to the trouble of consulting with her mother. She'd been like that as a kid, too. He frowned slightly as he looked Calleigh over. At this point in time, Kenwall had no illusions about what kind of parent he'd been but she was his flesh and blood and he knew something was wrong. The problem would be getting her to admit it. That stubborn streak had caused more than one argument between them.

He rested his hands on the siderail and tilted his head slightly, "What's happened?"

She looked away, her hands gripping the bed sheet a little tighter, "Now Daddy, it's an ongoing investigation. I really can't talk about it."

He dropped his eyes and sighed, "I know I've been a sorry excuse for a father but you're still my little girl and I know when something's wrong. I'm not talking about what put you here, I'm talking about right now." He couldn't quite bring himself to look at her, aware the irony wasn't lost on either of them.

It wasn't often a person had a life-changing epiphany, his had been set in motion an eon ago when his little girl had looked he and his wife in the eye and announced she was leaving to go to college. Only eighteen and looking even younger, she'd calmly told them about the full academic scholarship she'd earned and the living arrangements she'd made. It was clear their input was neither necessary or desired. It was just as well. Irrational as it seemed now, he and Calleigh's mother had only been able to see the inconvenience to themselves, reacting with petulance, anger and disdain. What was worse was that Calleigh seemed to take it all in stride and then she was gone.

The hole her absence left in the family was larger then he could have imagined. She rarely called or wrote although he suspected she kept in touch with her brothers and, after a disastrous Christmas the first year, she didn't come home on holidays either. The family slowly and inexorably disintegrated. His oldest son fled to the military as soon as he was able. His other son followed in the family footsteps, drinking and doing god knew what and, not surprisingly, blaming his sister for his choices. By the time Calleigh announced she was going into law enforcement and that she'd been accepted into the Police Academy, he and her mother were reeling from the aftermath of a bitter divorce.

When Calleigh made the move to Miami, he finally took a hard look at his life and admitted to himself what he'd done. After alienating nearly every friend and relation he had, he'd decided he was left with two choices. One would be to continue as he was, which he now saw as a slow form of suicide, or he could try turning his life around and enlist the help of the one person who meant everything to him. Tentatively, he reached out and was surprised and grateful to find that Calleigh was willing to reconcile. Despite all his shortcomings, she still loved him and when it came right down to it, he loved her dearly. Swearing to do better, he followed his daughter to Miami and a new start. It had been a bumpy road but Calleigh had been there for him and now, finally, he would be there for her.

She still hadn't answered him. Well, for once, he was going to out-stubborn her. Grabbing the siderail and lowering it, he sat down on the edge of the bed and reached over to cover her hand with his own, "Talk to me, Lambchop. It's about time I helped you."

She shook her head and he was shocked to see her eyes brimming with tears. His reaction was immediate and instinctual. He reached out and carefully pulled her to him murmuring, "It'll be okay, baby girl. Daddy's got you." He got a second shock when she broke down and cried. Calleigh hadn't cried in front of any member of the family that he could recall since she was nine or ten. Gradually, he realized she was talking. Her voice was muffled by his shirt and he frowned slightly as he struggled to hear.

At first it didn't make much sense but eventually he was able to get the gist of it. His little girl was in love with one of her co-workers, the feeling was mutual but there were problems. Kenwall bit off a snort, he could think of a few himself - not the least of which was the fact that he didn't think any man was good enough for his Lambchop. He and this Eric fella were going to have to have a serious sit-down in the very near future. Calleigh had fallen silent after that revelation, her breathing evening out and, for a moment, Kenwall thought she'd fallen asleep.

Then she started talking again and he could feel her shoulders and back muscles tense under his hands. Worried, he concentrated harder on what she was saying. His face blanched and he felt a sense of horror as she spoke haltingly of her ordeal. That soon gave way to anger at the son of a bitch who'd hurt his baby. She was still speaking and, with difficulty, he focused again on her words. He almost wished he hadn't. It was becoming painfully clear that Calleigh hadn't just endured physical assault. How in God's name had that monster learned so much about their miserable family situation? Even worse, he'd managed to convince Calleigh that it was somehow her fault. She was apologizing - apologizing! - for the hell Kenwall knew he and his wife had created during her childhood. He didn't even want to contemplate the measures that bastard had employed to achieve that dubious milestone. She'd stopped talking again but now the pause seemed ominous. What else was there?

Carefully, he tightened his embrace hoping to convey his support physically. The time for talking would come soon enough and he feared he would be inadequate to the task. The last thing he wanted to do was to somehow make everything worse when she apparently needed him for the first time in years. Kenwall was well aware that his daughter had a finely honed sense of justice, along with the wherewithal and strength of will to deal with the consequences of whatever actions she took. A case in point had been the incident with Milo Burrus and his brothers when she was only sixteen. He'd been clueless at the time, awash in a sea of liquor but Jack Tolley, the sheriff of Darnell, had finally been pissed enough to corral and sober him up enough to hear what Calleigh had done. Unfortunately, his pride for her had been overwhelmed by the guilt and shame at not being there when she needed him and he never spoke of it to her. To this day, he wasn't sure if she knew that he knew what had happened.

His heart sank a little when she began to speak once more. She was shaking this time and he began rubbing comforting circles on her back in an effort to calm her down. The words again were soft and Kenwall had the feeling they were teetering on the edge of a precipice. Fate, with its ever-perverse sense of humor, had chosen the weakest link in Calleigh's life to keep her from tumbling into the chasm. When he failed, the fall would kill them both. Grimly, he gave himself a shake, his resolve hardening. Not this time, goddammit. Failure was not on the table. With a renewed determination, he focused on his daughter, listening to what she was saying and shunting his own emotional storm to the side. There would be time later to contemplate ways of slowly killing that sadistic bastard.

She was stumbling over her words now as she moved closer to the crux of the nightmare that was swallowing her life. Kenwall could only listen. She needed to get everything out before he could deal with it. Slowly, relentlessly, she laid out each failure until she reached the final self-betrayal that had shattered her soul and rocked her foundation to its core. Silent at last, she burrowed deeper into his chest and continued to weep. Kenwall took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. Maybe Fate wasn't so perverse after all. He knew her 'confession' wouldn't have seemed so devastatingly damning to someone who didn't know her well. They would see it as words with no meaning, coerced by a well-planned combination of mental and physical torture. He knew better and, more importantly, he knew his daughter.

As a lawyer, he was more aware than most of the power of words and she was a lawyer's daughter. Words could raise you to dizzying heights or cut deeply enough to drain your life's blood. They weren't to be taken lightly. Even as a young child, Calleigh had been careful about anything she said. Happy, sad or deeply angry, she always considered her words before speaking. In the throes of that hell she'd found herself in, he knew she'd weighed the ramifications before she uttered the words that broke her.

Gently, he pried her away from his body and cupped her face in both hands, wiping away the tears with his thumbs, "Darlin', I need you to listen to me. Would you do that?" When she nodded, he smiled and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, "That's my girl." He fished around in a pocket and pulled out a handkerchief for her, "Wipe your eyes and blow your nose, Lambchop. I've got a few things to say."

The door to her room opened at that moment and Kenwall looked over his shoulder, irritation plain on his face. "Get out and stay out!" he snapped ferociously at the nurse standing there. Eyes wide, she hurriedly shut the door. He turned back to Calleigh with a smile, taking hold of her arms, "Let's get you comfortable." He helped her settle back against the pillows and then tilted his head at the expression on her face, "This is a closed court, darlin'. No spectators." Kenwall raised an eyebrow and adopted a stern look, "We've heard from the prosecution. Now you're going to listen to the defense."

He held up a finger, "First off, the defense challenges prosecution's contention that you were in any way, shape or form, responsible for your Mother's and my ludicrous attempts at being a family." He leaned in with a warm smile, "You've always been kindhearted, Lambchop, and I have always thought you were the most beautiful and brilliant person upon this earth but that has never meant that you had the least little control over anything I or your mother did. You still don't. Now granted, I value your opinion most highly but you can no more make me do something than you can make pigs fly. Blaming yourself for my transgressions makes about as much sense as blaming yourself for the sun coming up in the morning." His voice grew softer, "Let the guilt go, sweetheart. It's mine to carry for the childhood you had, not yours. I know I've said it before but I need you to take this to heart. I'm truly sorry for what you and your brothers went through because I was too weak and too foolish to stay away from the bottle. I'd change it if I could. I'm trying now."

He sat back, "Does the prosecution wish to cross?" Calleigh sniffled a bit and shook her head. Kenwall eyed her carefully, "Then I would ask that the charges be dropped on the grounds that there is no basis in fact. Do you concur?"

She nodded slowly and he reached forward to kiss her forehead. Keeping his lips there, he murmured softly, "I am dead serious about this, Calleigh. You and your brothers were and are entirely blameless, you hear?" She nodded again and he pulled back with a soft sigh. This next part was going to hurt them both before they came out on the other side.

Nervously smoothing the lapels on his suitcoat, he settled himself and cleared his throat, "Darlin', you've told me what you did but I need to hear everything in context." His resolve firmed as she gave him a horror-filled look and frantically shook her head, "Calleigh, I can't allow you to condemn yourself when I've only heard part of the evidence. I need to know it all and you have to tell me." She shook her head again and he locked gazes with her, "Okay, let's do it like this. I'll start and you fill in. We'll take it in baby steps." He began immediately, not giving her any more time to object, "The first time you woke up on the boat, you were tied to a chair." Kenwall looked at her expectantly while keeping his expression neutral. Hearing some of this had hurt terribly, hearing it all would surely kill him.

She kept her eyes fixed on him, "He had my wrists tied to the top of the chair back so I was forced to lean forward and a wire loop around my neck so I couldn't relieve the strain. Everything hurt and there was no way to rest. I figured he would do - whatever he had in mind and kill me. Then he showed up and made it so much worse. He wasn't going to kill me at all..."

And so it went. In fits and starts, he coaxed out everything she could remember until they were on the threshold of the incident that had damned her in her own eyes. Kenwall mopped at the sweat on his forehead, he'd long since shed the coat. Holding up a hand, he gave her a tired smile, "Lambchop, we need a sidebar."

Calleigh gave him a questioning look, wondering if he was as exhausted as she was. She'd always maintained that he was a fine lawyer but a good part of that was simple loyalty and she'd never experienced his skills firsthand. Now she had proof positive and as hard as all this had been, she would be forever grateful that she'd unburdened herself to her father. He'd been able to hear all the things she couldn't bring herself to say out loud.

"Calleigh, darlin', I need an expert opinion." Kenwall's expression didn't give anything away, "And you're the expert here. Would you mind?" Baffled now, she slowly nodded. He grinned and rubbed his hands together, "Thank you. Now - suppose you were investigating a crime with a credible eyewitness. What he's seen makes perfect sense and fits the initial facts of the case; but later, as you investigate further, the evidence starts to point in a completely different direction. What do you do?"

She eyed him dubiously, "We'd keep investigating."

"But what about your witness? He's not lying. He's telling you exactly what he saw. Do you dismiss him out of hand?"

"Well, no. But eyewitnesses are often the least reliable sources of evidence. They can only tell us their interpretation of what they've seen. If we had three different witnesses, we'd probably get three different versions and none of them would be deliberately attempting to mislead us."

"So what you're saying is that you'd take their testimony and put it in context with the evidence you've collected, right?"

Calleigh nodded slowly, "Right. We consider the totality of the evidence." She frowned slightly, "We've been over this before, Daddy."

His smile was brighter, it looked like he was getting his second wind, "Yes, we have. Thank you, Lambchop." He couldn't resist leaning forward and giving her a quick peck on the cheek. Settling back down, he crossed his legs and clasped his hands around a knee, "Defense now asks that the charge of collaboration be dropped for lack of evidence."

Calleigh stared at him in disbelief before looking away, "Nice try, Dad, but I know what I did."

"No. You know what you think you did but the evidence doesn't support it. Totality, remember?" Kenwall leaned forward, his manner now intense, "That ba... the suspect broke one of your ribs. That's some serious anger but you were trussed up like a Christmas goose. How'd you manage to provoke that physical of a response?"

She frowned, her brow furrowing in concentration. One of the effects of the electrical shocks had been sporadic memory loss. Calleigh brought up a hand to rub her temple, "I... I'm not... , " Suddenly she looked at her father, her eyes widening slightly, "I hit him."

"How?" Kenwall held his breath. When Lt. Caine had called to tell him his little girl was in yet another hospital, he'd demanded to know exactly what had happened. The Lieutenant had been nearly as reluctant as Calleigh to tell him any details although he suspected it was for a vastly different reason. Caine probably thought he'd bolt to the nearest bar and then show up at the hospital blitzed out of his mind. It had been a temptation but the thought of disappointing her yet again kept him sober. What he had been undecided about was whether seeing her would be bad or good. They hadn't parted on the best of terms and he didn't want to exacerbate the situation. It was Caine's second call that had him racing to his daughter's side.

Sounding slightly wondering, Calleigh continued to stare at Kenwall, "He was whispering in my ear, telling me I could stop the pain if I gave in. I kept pulling away my head away, the wire was digging in deeper and then I realized he wasn't following me. He was where he'd started with his eyes closed and this stupid smirk. I was suddenly so angry. I swung back as hard as I could and hit him right in the face."

Kenwall allowed himself a satisfied snort and stayed focused on his daughter. He knew he still hadn't proved his case but he was making headway. "And then he hit you." She nodded slowly. "Do you remember anything after that?" He held back a flinch at the look on her face.

"I woke up feeling like I was on fire. It hurt so much, Daddy, and it kept going on. I couldn't breathe enough to scream but I was screaming anyway." She looked down at her hands, self-reproach evident, "I was weak, pathetic. He only had me for two, three hours and I just gave up. I promised I'd do whatever he wanted if he'd make it stop."

"You can stop that line of thought right now. Don't you ever call yourself weak. Those were extraordinary circumstances and you were doing your best to survive. Don't go judging yourself by some John Wayne movie standard." Kenwall put his hand on top of hers, his voice growing soft, "Besides, I don't believe you ever managed to say the words out loud." He tilted his head to the side at her look of denial, "Think about it. You'd been beaten unconscious, then you woke up - and I use that term lightly - being subjected to a painful electrical current. You're a strong woman, Lambchop, but I seriously doubt you could have strung two coherent words together. The intent might have been there but you never committed the act."

"Intent was enough. I let that guy win." She was slumped against the pillows, her voice flat. "I would have done anything to get out of that chair."

"Intent isn't enough," Kenwall straightened indignantly, "You know that. Otherwise, half the motorists during rush hour would be up on murder charges. And as far as 'doing anything' - no matter what you think you might have done, I know as surely as politicians lie to get elected that you'd never willingly go through with it. Don't go condemning yourself for something that never happened."

"You're speculating," Calleigh said it without rancor. She couldn't be annoyed with her father for trying to let her off the hook.

"So are you," the elder Duquesne replied bluntly. He leaned in again, "What do you remember after you said you gave up?" Kenwall nodded forcefully when she remained silent, a faint scowl on her face. "That's what I'm talking about. You don't remember that son of a bitch hauling you back onto the deck, do you?"

She slowly shook her head and Kenwall's voice softened again, "Lt. Caine told me that he never untied your hands. If you'd given up, why not cut you all the way loose?" He paused for a moment to emphasize his point, "I'll tell you why. He knew you were still fighting. Hell, Calleigh, you blacked both his eyes and broke his nose. Believe me, you didn't surrender."

Finally, Kenwall was rewarded with a somewhat bewildered look. Holding his breath, he watched as his little girl's focus turned inward. He'd bet a week's pay that he'd reconstructed events correctly but the only thing that truly mattered was that he'd managed to convince Calleigh that none of this was her fault.

"I didn't?" She sounded in desperate need of reassurance, something he hadn't heard from her in decades.

Kenwall smiled warmly at her, "No, Lambchop, you didn't." He was ready for her tears this time, knowing they came from being relieved of a crushing burden. There would still be doubts and second-guessing but nothing that couldn't be countered, nothing that could drag her spirit down into unrelenting darkness. He stayed until she finally did fall asleep. Tucking her in as he used to do once upon a time, Kenwall gave her forehead a gentle kiss before collecting his suitcoat. Shrugging back into it, he wearily made his way to the door. Quietly, he opened it and found Eric rising from a chair where he'd obviously been keeping watch. He raised an eyebrow at the CSI, "Young man, you and I need to have a little talk about your intentions towards my daughter."


	22. Chapter 22

Sorry for the delay in posting - got home late from work and then there were the horses, dogs and cats to feed. Time just kind of slipped away. Thanks to those who took a couple of minutes to review - I'm glad you're enjoying this endeavor.

Chapter 22

Sunday,

6:30 p.m.

Delko shifted his weight back and stretched his legs out in front while he contemplated the sleeping blonde before him. She was going to have to wake up soon, medication was due and she needed to eat before that. He was loathe to disturb her, however. From what he'd learned from Mr. Duquesne, the session the two had gone through had been both illuminating and exhausting. Duke had declared that he felt like he'd been dragged through a knothole backwards and Eric was willing to bet that Calleigh felt worse. While he had understood the importance that there be no interruptions while Kenwall talked to Cal, the result had been that she missed some of her meds.

Eric found he had mixed feelings about the breakthrough Duke had achieved with his daughter. As thrilled as he was that the older gentleman had managed to not only uncover but defuse the dilemma Calleigh was tormenting herself with, he was also surprised at the jealousy that had reared its ugly head. He'd done his best to be there for her. Why couldn't she have confided in him?

Delko snorted softly in irritation with himself. Lindsay would have a field day if he ever found out. Deep down, Eric knew it made sense that when Calleigh finally spoke, it would be to someone who'd literally known her since birth. It was just hard knowing that that same person had also caused her countless hours of emotional pain and upheaval. Hell, it rankled. Eric shook his head, forcibly shoving that unproductive line of thought to the side as he checked his watch. Louise would be here soon, personally overseeing Calleigh's meal and delivering the medication. She would also, no doubt, be conveying her observations of Cal's mental and physical state to both Deluca and Lindsay. He didn't need her conveying anything about him.

There were visiting hours to consider as well. A number of people from the lab had been hoping to see Calleigh and were patiently waiting for an okay from Horatio. Caine had asked Eric to broach the subject with Calleigh and let him know. Both Ryan and Valera were worried about how Calleigh was handling her ordeal. Ryan had even confessed to Horatio that he was both anxious and reluctant to see her. Eric could well understand the problem. No one wanted to see their friend suffer. Eric planned to bring up the subject with Cal after she'd eaten and see how she felt about visitors. He'd also warn her that she was getting one whether she felt like it or not, although he was fairly certain Calleigh wouldn't have any objections.

Horatio had also wryly delivered the news that Alexx had called to let him know she was coming to the hospital, period, end of discussion. The ME was a force of nature when concerned about her friends and Caine was already braced for the tirade she was going to give him for not keeping her apprised of Calleigh's condition. Eric smothered a smile, grateful Alexx had no reason to put him in her sights. He didn't envy Horatio in the slightest. Her husband had probably been on the receiving end of numerous lectures, too.

Eric glanced at his watch again and climbed to his feet, covering the short distance to the bed. Lowering the siderail, he once again settled on the edge and gently placed a hand on her shoulder. There was that momentary sensation of deja vu but he fervently hoped the outcome wasn't anywhere near the same. "Calleigh? You need to wake up. Cal?" He watched as she mumbled something unintelligible and squeezed her eyes tighter shut. Eric tried again, "Querida, you need to get up." There was another mumble that sounded suspiciously like 'five more minutes'.

He watched for a moment and then his eyes took on a mischievous glint. Leaning in closer, he said quietly, "Calleigh, come on. The minister's waiting. We're supposed to get married." He sat back quickly as her eyes flew open and she looked wildly around the room. When she finally settled on him, he met her glare with an impudent grin, "It's dinnertime."

Calleigh rubbed her eyes and stifled a yawn, "I'm not hungry." She treated him to another glare and added, "Smart-ass."

Eric looked positively smug as he raised an eyebrow, still smiling, "Not as much as you think. Your father and I have talked. I have his blessing, providing you're agreeable."

"Eric!" Her cheeks reddened as she stared at him in wide-eyed shock. At the moment, she was undecided on whether to thank her father or kill him.

"What? I've told you how I feel and you've said you feel the same." He reached for the controls and raised the head of the bed up so they could be eye-level and then leaned across so he could face her straight on, bracing himself with a hand on the far side just opposite her hip. Despite the aplomb he was displaying now, it had been an uncomfortable meeting with Kenwall Duquesne. He'd just returned to Cal's floor and was talking to Louise when one of the floor nurses had huffed her way back to the nurses' station and asked for security. When he realized it was Calleigh's father in her room, he'd convinced Louise to leave the two alone.

As added insurance, he'd corralled a chair and took up a position outside the door. Occasionally, he'd hear their voices but never enough to make out the conversation. It'd been frustrating as hell not knowing what was happening. The minutes had dragged on and his anxiety had grown. It had been gut instinct that said leave the two alone. Had he made a mistake? He hadn't known Duke Duquesne that well and from his own observations, it seemed like Calleigh was the parent in their relationship. Was Duke actually helping or was he adding yet another burden to his already stressed daughter? The floor nurse hadn't mentioned him seeming intoxicated. Finally Eric had taken a deep breath and told himself to quit speculating. It was doing nothing but raising his blood pressure.

When the door opened at last, he couldn't help shooting out of the chair. He had just begun to ask about Calleigh when Kenwall completely derailed that train of thought with his own statement. He'd stood there with his mouth slightly open until Duke smiled and suggested a cup of coffee. They'd fallen into step together and once they were on the elevator, Eric had finally asked how Calleigh was. Duke's response had been to shrug his shoulders and state somewhat cryptically that she was asleep. Frustrated, Delko had fallen silent, realizing that the elder Duquesne wasn't going to speak until he was ready.

Once they'd arrived in the cafeteria, Duke got his coffee and Eric settled for an iced tea. Had it been possible, he might have considered something stronger. After making their way to an isolated table, Kenwall had dropped into a chair with an air of exhaustion. They'd sipped their drinks in silence and then Duke had looked at Delko over the rim of his cup and fired the opening salvo. Eric, despite feeling like he was eighteen again, had answered honestly. His ultimate goal, if Calleigh was willing, was marriage. The conversation had progressed from there with Duke bringing up the possible problems at work and children. Eric had been as straightforward as he could, admitting that Rick Stetler from IAB would probably do his best to make waves. As for the rest, he loved Calleigh and he'd love children and they would work it out as they went along.

They'd both fallen quiet after that, Duke in obvious contemplation of the things Eric had said. Delko had sat there patiently. Silence was not something he was uncomfortable with. At last, Kenwall had looked over at Delko and smiled. Following what Eric knew was a long-standing rite of fathers with daughters, Duke formally welcomed the younger man to the family and, in the same breath, threatened his life should he ever make Calleigh unhappy. They'd shook hands, sealing the deal and then Duke took his leave, citing other commitments. Eric had watched him go with a mixture of gratitude and aggravation.

It'd been a relief to know that Kenwall wouldn't oppose his pursuit of Calleigh but the older man had firmly rebuffed every effort of Eric's to discover exactly what had been bothering Calleigh so badly. He would only say that it would be up to his daughter to divulge that information. Wondering if she'd ever tell, Eric had returned to Calleigh's room to wait for her to wake.

Returning to the present, Delko ducked his head a little, his expression growing serious, "I know there'll be problems but we'll get through them. I'm not saying we have to rush into anything but I'm not interested in going back to the way it was either."

"Are you sure?" Calleigh couldn't help the question. Relationships had never been easy for her and now they would be infinitely more complicated. Her father had given her a much needed lifeline to cling to but he'd been unable to banish entirely the doubts and shame. Owens' legacy would be with her for the rest of her life and she was still discovering the consequences. She didn't know how this would affect the two of them. Just the thought of failing with Eric was frightening. The cost would be higher than she could bear.

"Oh yeah," Eric gave her a warm smile, edging a little closer. With everything she'd been through, it was understandable that her self-confidence would be shaky. He had a few ideas on how to alleviate the problem but they all required a more conducive setting than a hospital room.

"Stetler. You know he's going to jump all over this when he finds out," Calleigh blurted out next. She wasn't sure why she was dragging up obstacles. Eric would have thought this through before bringing it up with her.

Eric studied her for a long moment, "Cal, what's the real problem?" It didn't phase him that she was hunting for roadblocks. This dance had been going on for a long while and old habits were hard to break.

She stared at him and then looked away. "I'm scared," she finally admitted quietly. "What if this doesn't work out? What if I'm... not what you expected?" She hurried on before he could say anything, "I mean I know I'm opinionated and I work way too much and now this thing..." Her voice trailed off for a moment before she turned to look at him again, "You've been my best friend and I'm afraid to lose that."

"It scares me, too," Eric confessed, surprised that she'd opened up this much. A nasty little thread of worry appeared. The old Calleigh would have clammed up long before this. How much damage had Owens inflicted beyond the physical? Obviously, he was going to have to be extra careful with her until they could put this nightmare behind them. He tried a reassuring smile, "I think it would be worse if we didn't try." He waited while she digested that. Her concerns were valid and he wasn't really looking forward to arguing with Stetler over this. However, he wasn't going to shy away from the confrontation either. Calleigh was too important to be faint-hearted about any challenges IAB threw at them. While these types of relationships were frowned upon, there wasn't any real regulation prohibiting them. It wasn't like there would be some sort of conflict of interest. They were both on the same side. So long as they kept their personal life out of their professional one, no one would be able to find fault.

Calleigh took a careful breath and let it out slowly. It was oddly reassuring to know he was experiencing some of the same fears. At any rate, when all was said and done, what it really came down to was a life with Eric or a life without. Thinking of it that way made the choice easier. She looked at him and said simply, "Okay." Calleigh couldn't help grinning when he blinked but didn't say anything. Knowing him as she did, he'd probably had been busily formulating strategies to counter any other objections and she'd just circumvented the whole process.

Her amusement grew when his eyebrows went up and he said, "Really?"

Smiling widely now, Calleigh nodded her head, "Really." She just had time for a breath before he leaned in and kissed her. Over the years, she'd imagined what it would be like to really kiss Eric. Most of the time, she'd dismissed those thoughts as terribly sappy and unrealistic - and now he'd proven her wrong.

When they broke apart, she grinned again as he leaned his forehead against hers and breathed, "Wow."

Calleigh closed her eyes as her accent thickened, "I'll say."

Eric couldn't help the smug grin. She looked how he felt. He started to lean in again when he heard the door start to open. Hurriedly pulling back, Eric muttered 'damn' under his breath. Calleigh looked like she felt the same. Straightening up, he turned and offered a slight smile, "Hi Louise."

"Eric, Calleigh," Louise greeted the two cheerfully. She walked up to the side of the bed and smiled at her patient, "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine." Looking at the expressions on both Eric and Louise's faces, she huffed a little, "Oh for heaven's sake. All right - at this moment, in this position, if I don't take too deep a breath, I feel fine."

Delko shook his head with a smile while Louise just nodded, "Okay then. Let's check your vitals and then I'll have your dinner brought in along with your meds."

Calleigh sighed a little. She was infinitely tired of hospitals and all that came with them. It didn't look like she would be getting out any time soon. For one thing, she was far less steady on her feet than the last time. She was limping from the hole in her leg, her back still hurt and the broken rib didn't react well to sudden losses of balance. Louise had tried getting her up for a little bit when she'd brought lunch. Calleigh had been surprised and a little frightened at the weakness in her legs. Louise's sturdy support had been all that kept her from hitting the floor once again. The nurse had done her best to reassure - explaining that what Cal was experiencing was the aftermath of repeated electrical shock. Deluca had determined there would be no lasting damage. The weakness would ease with time.

Eric got out of Louise's way, although a look from Cal kept him in the room. He watched as Louise ran through her examination, frowning a little when the nurse took Calleigh's hands to test her grip. He hadn't noticed any problems. He made a mental note to ask Deluca about it.

After Louise finished with the notes on Calleigh's chart, she made a call and Cal's dinner and medication were delivered promptly. When Delko promised to make sure both were consumed, Louise left them alone. Once she was gone, Eric moved back over to the bed and resumed his perch on the other side of the tray. He looked from Calleigh to the food and back again, "It looks better than the last time I watched you eat."

Calleigh gave him a jaundiced glare, "Sawdust with gravy is still sawdust." At his look, she sighed, "I know, I know. I have to eat if I want to get out of this place."

Eric grinned at her, "Well, at least I didn't tell you to clean your plate because children are starving in Europe."

She arched an eyebrow, "And I'm supposed to thank you for that? It doesn't make any more sense now than it did when I was a kid." With one more theatrically heavy sigh, she began eating. Eric watched her for a few minutes and then cleared his throat. When she looked up, he smiled, "How soon would you consider accepting visitors? Everybody's been waiting to see you." At her disbelieving expression, he began ticking names off, "Well, there's Ryan, Maxine, Frank, Yelina, Adele, Cooper, Aaron, Joseph, Ian, Claudia..." His voice trailed off, "What?"

She hesitated a little, "What about Alexx?"

"Alexx?" Eric repeated. He waited a moment and then smiled lightly while checking his watch, "She should be here any time now." He shrugged his shoulders at Calleigh's expression, "According to H, Alexx says she's fine and he's in big trouble for not keeping her up-to-date on you. The fact that she needed to rest doesn't seem to make a difference."

Calleigh was looking more alarmed, "Is she really okay to come? I don't want her to hurt herself just to see me."

Eric shook his head, "I don't think Henry would have let her out of the house if it wasn't okay, no matter how she argued. He's on her list, too, by the way."

"You'd better believe he is."

Eric turned to see Alexx in the doorway. Rising from his seat, he walked over and gave her a careful embrace, "Glad to see you're okay."

She returned his hug, "Thanks, baby." She pulled back a little and gave him a look, "And you can tell Horatio when you call him, that this isn't getting him off the hook. When I get back to work we're going to have us a little talk about priorities."

Eric ducked his head. It was spooky how well the ME knew Caine. The Lieutenant had practically ordered him to call with his assessment of Alexx's condition, "Yes ma'am." He glanced back at Calleigh, "Why don't I leave you two alone to catch up?" He started for the door and then looked at Alexx, "She still needs to take her meds after she finishes dinner."

Alexx nodded and watched him leave before walking over to Calleigh's bedside. She smiled at her friend, "Hey, sweetie."

"Hey Alexx," Calleigh answered softly. There was a slightly awkward pause and then Calleigh blurted out, "I'm so sorry."

At the same time, Alexx was saying, "Honey, I'm sorry." They stared at each other in surprise. "Baby girl, you've got nothing to be sorry about," Alexx stated firmly as she sat down, eyeing the healing bruises and lacerations. She took a deep breath and looked down at her lap, "I'm the one who left you alone with that monster. I should have stayed."

"Oh Lord, no!" Calleigh looked shocked at her friend's statement, "I told you to run, remember? That bastard would've killed you." Her head dropped a little, "He almost did anyway. I am sorry, Alexx. I didn't want you to get hurt and instead, I got you shot."

Alexx was silent for a few seconds and then she shook her head ruefully, "We're a fine pair, aren't we? Apologizing to each other for what that maniac did. I say we put the blame right where it belongs, deal? She stuck out a hand and raised an eyebrow at Calleigh, "Well?"

Calleigh stared back and then rolled her eyes, "Oh, all right, fine." She clasped Alexx's hand and they shook on it, "I don't know why everyone thinks I'm stubborn. I look like an amateur next to you."

"You are stubborn," Alexx remarked absently. She hadn't let go of Calleigh's hand, turning it slightly to look at the bandaging on her wrist, "Oh sweetie, how bad is the rest of it?"

Easing her hand free, Calleigh tried to look nonchalant, "Better than it could have been. I'll be fine in a few more days." She gave Alexx a pointed look, "At least no one shot me. How are you feeling?"

Alexx waved a hand, "Well, I won't be doing any heavy lifting for a while. It wasn't that serious. A through and through and it missed all the major organs. Hurt like hell, though," she acknowledged frankly. "I prefer this be my last experience with small metal projectiles."

"I hear you," Calleigh agreed with a smile. "After this, I hope I never see the inside of another hospital again."

"Your mouth to God's ear, baby," Alexx shifted to a more comfortable position. She hadn't really expected Calleigh to come clean about her condition. Eric had told her earlier today about the problems Cal had after regaining consciousness. She hadn't been surprised at the barely suppressed anger from the younger man as he listed Calleigh's injuries, what really worried her was the undercurrent of fear. That Eric was afraid for the blonde's recovery spoke volumes. Alexx was going to do her best to uncover the truth and, knowing Calleigh, sometimes the best approach was sideways. "Eat the rest of your dinner while you fill me in on you and Eric." She arched an eyebrow at Calleigh's expression and gestured at the plate, "If you're going to sit there with your mouth open, put some food in and chew." She glanced at the pills in the small cup, "I'm guessing these aren't to be taken on an empty stomach?"

Calleigh shook her head as she obediently took another bite of her dinner. It gave her a little time to think. She needed to get over her reluctance to tell Alexx about her and Eric's decision to explore a relationship. Actually, it was a reluctance to tell anyone even though she knew it was neither feasible nor wise. She just couldn't shake the notion that when she made a mess of this thing with Eric, the less witnesses, the better. Swallowing, she steeled herself, "Eric wants to give 'us' a try. I said okay."

"How very... platonic," Alexx remarked dryly. "C'mon girl. There's got to be more to the story than that. We're talking hot-blooded Latino here."

"Alexx!" Calleigh regarded the ME with a mixture of exasperation and fondness. Being happily married, Alexx wished the same for her friends and, as she liked to point out, enjoy a little vicarious fun listening to how romances were progressing.

"What?" Alexx was unrepentant as she tilted her head to the side. "We can talk about this or more about you."

"We kissed," Calleigh blurted out, cursing inwardly. Alexx obviously knew about her earlier meltdowns and she wasn't ready to get into that again. Not so soon after reliving it with her father. Hell, she hadn't been able to talk to Eric about it yet and Dale Lindsay wasn't even on her radar.

"About time," Alexx smiled. "Was it an earth-moving, go weak at the knees sort of kiss?" She frowned at the suddenly closed expression on Calleigh's face, "What's wrong? This isn't about Eric, is it?"

Calleigh pushed her food around the plate, "I am weak at the knees." She looked up at Alexx, worry evident, "I'm having some problems walking and my hands aren't as strong as before. Louise said it was from the electrical shocks and that it would get better. They weren't lying, were they?"

Alexx reached over to rest a hand on Calleigh's legs, "They weren't lying, sweetie. You'll recover." She paused for a moment and then added forcefully, "From everything, you hear? Don't forget your friends. We're all here for you to lean on whenever you need it. We know you'd do the same for any of us."


	23. Chapter 23

Almost done! Keeping on the schedule I've had for posting, the last chapter will be up on Monday - premiere night. How's that for timing? Again, thanks to my wonderful, faithful reviewers - it's always nice to know somebody is reading.

Chapter 23

Thursday,

11:25 am

Calleigh checked her watch and sighed a little. Glancing from the bed to the chair, she moved determinedly to the chair and carefully sat down. She'd had enough of hospitals to last her a lifetime. Today was Liberation Day. She was finally getting out. Eric and her father were sharing the honors and were due any time now. Alexx apparently had nixed a large group appearing, pointing out that being released wasn't synonymous with cured and that their friend needed rest, not a circus. Calleigh would have liked to argue that point but knew the ME was probably right. The fifteen minute walk to and from the hospital solarium was enough to wear her out right now. Alexx had also gleefully passed along the fact that Horatio had taken over an interview for Eric so that he could accompany Kenwall on escort duty.

Considering what happened last time, she wouldn't be surprised if Horatio had wrangled a SWAT escort as well. Not that it would be necessary, Owens and Wiley were currently sitting in jail awaiting trial. The judge, showing a wisdom she often thought in short supply, had denied every attempt of the brothers' lawyers to get them released on bail. While it probably had more to do with the high-profile murder of the Hennesseys than the attempts on her life, Calleigh wasn't complaining.

Shifting a little in the chair, Calleigh started to lean back and then reconsidered. The broken rib, while healing nicely, was still painful. She checked her watch again and resisted another sigh. It had been a busy morning. Both Deluca and Lindsay had been in to see her one last time before signing the discharge papers. The physical exam hadn't worried her - they didn't expect her to do handsprings after all, but the mental review had been another story. It wasn't in her nature to blather on about every emotion she'd experienced since puberty nor was she used to delving into traumatic episodes with a stranger, however understanding he might be.

That didn't mean she hadn't gritted her teeth and done it anyway. The MDPD wouldn't let her go back to work until she'd gone through their psych eval so she figured she might as well get the practice in. It hadn't been easy. She'd never warmed up to Lindsay although he seemed like a nice guy and Eric apparently liked him. If he hadn't been banging around in her head, stubbornly pushing her to talk about things she didn't even want to think about, she might have liked him, too.

It had been hard to be patient these last few days. The better she felt physically, the more she wanted out. Having a steady stream of visitors had helped alleviate the boredom. Eric would probably still be camped in her room if she hadn't shooed him back to work. He managed to pop in at odd hours anyway, whenever he could get away with saying he was just passing by. Apparently he had the nursing staff wrapped around his little finger. They didn't blink an eye at his appearances, visiting hours or not.

Alexx, still on medical leave herself, had dropped by often. She'd also gone to Calleigh's place and gathered clothes and other sundries for her, an act that Calleigh had blessed the ME for as the visits began. The number of people that had come to see her had been surprising. Cal was beginning to think that almost every person in the lab had stopped by. Maxine, Dan, Aaron, Joseph and Ian had come as a group, bearing ice cream rather than flowers. They'd made her laugh until she hurt. Ian and Aaron both had a surprisingly dry sense of humor that played well off the others. Calleigh had finally accused them of rehearsing before they came, a charge some denied and others acknowledged. It sparked a ridiculous discussion that had Calleigh in tears before a nurse came in and chased them out.

Yelina and Adele's visit was more sedate. They hadn't stayed long, citing open cases, but both wished her a speedy return to health and work. Ryan had stopped by a couple of times, not nearly as nervous as the first time he'd come to see her. He'd relaxed even more when he realized she wasn't going to ask him about his part in apprehending Owens. Calleigh had turned the conversation towards his days in patrol and they'd had a pleasant time exchanging war stories. On the last visit, Ryan had unwound enough to give her a peck on the cheek before leaving.

Horatio's visit had been more painfully intense. He knew more about her past than anyone, and that included Eric, although her feelings for him had never gone beyond family. Almost the first thing he'd done was pull her into an embrace. They'd stayed that way for a good while, leading Calleigh to recall the last time they'd hugged had been right after Tim's death. The shock of that had damn near shattered the team. Calleigh still felt guilty about it. Blaming himself, Horatio had pulled away and instead of stepping up, she'd withdrawn as well. With that failure, she had missed the warning signs that Eric wasn't handling things well. The toothing and subsequent badge loss had been a shocking wake-up call for all. Calleigh had promised herself that she wouldn't let any of them get that far away from her again.

Calleigh had assumed Horatio's actions were from relief that she was on her way to a full recovery. Instead, he'd apologized for what Owens had put her through. While she knew on an intellectual level that he'd be aware of everything that happened, emotionally, it was mortifying. Did he know what she'd done? How weak she'd been? Embarrassed, she tried to distance herself only to have that tactic fiercely resisted. Exasperation had quickly given way to anger. Calleigh realized later that Horatio had deliberately egged her on. She'd been absolutely furious and Caine had skillfully redirected her to the true source of her rage. Completely forgotten was the terror that Owens had inspired. If she could have reached that SOB right then, she'd have ripped off one of his arms and beaten him to death with it.

When Calleigh finally ran out of steam, she'd collapsed against the pillows, exhausted and aching. Horatio stayed right there with her, brushing off her apologies and offering one of his own for provoking her in the first place. He'd stayed while she calmed down and then completely changed direction, telling her ridiculous stories about some of the cases he'd been on early in his career until he'd finally gotten a small but genuine smile out of her. It wasn't until after he'd left that she'd let the chagrin overwhelm her. It hadn't said much for her state of mind when Horatio could manipulate her emotions so easily.

Lindsay had focused on her anger in his very next session making Calleigh wonder if he was psychic or had somehow managed to bug her room. She was never loud when angry and also knew Horatio would never betray her confidence. As with his other sessions, Dale had dragged her places she didn't want to go. Having covered some of the area already with Horatio, it hadn't been as much of a surprise but it was still maddeningly uncomfortable. Calleigh had learned early on that it didn't help to lose her temper. Lindsay would either regard her as if she was some interesting new bug and let her vent or he'd proceed to investigate what exactly had caused her lack of control. The only way to get him to stop was to be brutally honest. She was used to that sort of introspection on her own, she didn't think she'd ever get used to having to share it with others.

Frank Tripp had come to see her twice. The first time had been the official visit and uncomfortable didn't even begin to describe it. Eric had volunteered to sit with her to lend moral support. She'd turned him down as gently as she could, telling him she'd need him more afterwards. While he had a way of making her feel safe and protected, she couldn't help but fear that he would be disappointed when he finally learned of her abysmal behavior. It would happen sooner or later and Calleigh preferred it to be as late as possible. Eric had reluctantly agreed, and to judge from how fast he came in after Frank left, he'd probably been right outside the door the whole time. One look at the haunted expression on her face and he was at her side, enfolding her in his arms. She clung to him fiercely, alternately cursing the tears she couldn't seem to stop and reveling in the warmth of his embrace.

Frank, bless his heart, had been an absolute rock. He'd been unemotional, professional and completely non-judgmental as he walked her through everything she remembered. She'd needed that detachment as she went through her ordeal once again. It was an ever-growing nightmare. More fragments of memories kept materializing in her head as Frank pushed and prodded his way through the interview. As each additional puzzle piece fell into place, she was treated to a more complete picture of the hell Owens had created for her. It had taken over an hour to finish the interview. Frank had maintained his game face throughout, thanking her for her time before walking out. Horatio told her later that the big man had taken a page out of her book and gone to the pistol range after his shift ended. Once there, he'd obliterated a number of targets. Then he'd shown up on Caine's doorstep around midnight with a couple of six-packs and a creative, albeit, illegal plan for removing Owens from the gene pool, one piece at a time.

Frank's second visit had been more convivial. He was obviously feeling awkward when he first walked in. Calleigh knew him well enough to know that idle chit-chat wasn't his forte and that he was probably also feeling bad about having had to question her. She did her best to put him at ease. Her Southern upbringing wouldn't allow anything less. Being Texas-bred himself, Frank couldn't help but slide into his assigned role in the conversation, something he'd no doubt learned at his mama's knee. After a while, it was easy enough to imagine the two of them on a shady verandah sipping iced tea rather than in a sterile hospital room. When Frank finally took his leave, they were both feeling better.

The only person she was halfway expecting and who didn't show, was Rick Stetler. Not that she was complaining, but it was like waiting for the other shoe to drop. Calleigh was pretty certain that if there was a way to make this entire mess her fault, he'd find it. She'd hadn't said anything to Horatio about it. She knew he'd either feel guilty or furious and neither was the optimum frame of mind when dealing with IAB.

A quick tap on the door brought Calleigh out of her reverie. She smiled as first her father and then Eric walked into the room. Kenwall greeted his daughter cheerfully, "Hey darlin', you ready to get out of here?"

"Since about two days ago," Calleigh grinned back, her eyes going from her dad to Eric. He acknowledged her statement with a smile of his own. She held out both hands and each man took a side and helped her to her feet.

As if on cue, the door opened again and Louise and an orderly with a wheelchair came in. She nodded to the men and looked at Calleigh, "Time to go, Ms. Duquesne."

Calleigh did sigh then, looking at the wheelchair, "There's no chance I could just walk out, is there?" She waved a hand, "Policy, I know," as Louise shook her head. Disengaging her arm from Eric, who'd kept a surreptitious grip on her elbow from the moment she'd stood up, she walked over and carefully lowered herself into the wheelchair, "Okay, I'm in, let's get this show on the road."

"Yes ma'am," Eric chuckled as he snagged her overnight bag off the bed. Without a doubt, Calleigh could be as imperious as a queen when the mood struck her.

Thursday,

1:20 p.m.

Moving with a slight limp, Calleigh slowly walked through the rooms of her condo with a sense of relieved satisfaction. Everyone had left about thirty minutes ago and she was finally alone in her own home for the first time in nearly three weeks. It was wonderful. The thought that she was being ungrateful briefly flitted through her mind but she dismissed it quickly. Her father, Eric and Alexx (who'd been waiting for them with lunch) had been more than understanding when she'd politely suggested that they all go back to work. On her way out the door, Alexx had offered her own suggestion that Calleigh's downtime included actually laying down and taking a nap. Coming from Alexx, the 'suggestion' had sounded more like an order. Kenwall had merely hugged her and promised to call later in the evening to check in.

That left Eric. He'd been the last out of the door and reluctantly, at that. He'd also told her he'd be back around six with dinner. After admonishing her to rest, too, he'd headed back to the lab. Calleigh wandered about her home a bit longer. It was obvious that her friends had been keeping up with the housework. She wasn't a slob but the place looked like it'd been recently dusted and vacuumed and the refrigerator had been stocked with fresh food. It was sweet of everyone to make sure she didn't have to do anything when she arrived home but it also meant she didn't have anything to do. Work wasn't on the horizon for while, Horatio wasn't going to budge on that, leaving her with absolutely nothing with which to occupy herself.

With her injuries only partially healed, any sort of decent exercise was out of the question and Calleigh didn't trust herself to drive just yet. She didn't watch a lot of TV and the only thing on at this hour were the soap operas - not something she was wild about. It might be a good time to catch up on some of her reading but she could tell her concentration wasn't where it should be. Maybe a nap wasn't such a bad idea. A little rest and then she'd give some of her ballistic journals a try until Eric showed up.

Eventually, she wound up in the doorway of her bedroom. Eyeing the bed for a long moment, she turned on her heel and went back to the living room. Easing down onto the couch, she repositioned the pillows and then, keeping a hand on her side, swung her legs up and laid back. Closing her eyes, Calleigh concentrated on relaxing. God knew she was tired enough. It didn't take long to drift off. It took less time for the nightmare to start. She jerked awake, gasping, and then struggled to sit upright, staying bent over with her arms wrapped around her middle. Slowly the fear eased and frustration set in. She'd hoped once she was out of the hospital and back in a familiar and safe environment, the nightmares would at least slow down a little. Apparently that had been wishful thinking.

Dale had prescribed sleep aids for her but she was more than a little leery about taking them. She hadn't had much choice while she was in the hospital. They'd tossed it in along with all the other crap they were pumping into her and while it didn't exactly banish the dreams, she'd been too looped to be able to react to them. Right now, the thought of deliberate chemically-induced oblivion was looking way too attractive. However, she knew better than to go down a road she wouldn't be able to get off. Dr. Lindsay had also said the nightmares should dissipate with time as her life returned to normal. Calleigh let out an unladylike snort as she pulled a hand free to rest her head. Damn shrinks, it was so easy to be nonchalant about something that wasn't happening to them. She pushed herself to her feet and padded into the kitchen. Maybe tea would help. It was that or stay up and see if boredom could render her comatose.

Thursday,

2:45 p.m.

Ryan looked up from his work to see Eric standing in the doorway. He nodded to the older CSI, "Hey, how's Calleigh? She get home okay?" He planned on giving her a call towards the end of his shift and then stopping by.

Delko smiled and checked his watch as he walked into the room, "She's home and I would guess, by now, she's either sleeping or re-wiring the condo."

"Bored already, huh?" Ryan shook his head, chuckling. "I would have guessed she was converting her guttering into an anti-aircraft battery."

"Anti-aircraft battery? In Miami? Where?" Frank walked into the lab, looking from Ryan to Eric.

"Calleigh's place," Eric replied, doing his best to appear serious. He grinned and raised his hands at the look Tripp gave him, "Hey, she's bored."

Frank shook his head and snorted. He was more than familiar with Calleigh's workaholic ways. Leaning on the table edge, he raised an eyebrow, "You've got it all wrong, Delko. At this moment, Duquesne's busy turning her Jeep into an Action 5000 Urban Eradicator Vehicle with her Acme Auto Assault home conversion kit. There won't be any more single drivers in the diamond lanes of the Interstate."

Ryan laughed out loud, "Is that the one that comes with its own targeting coyote?"

Horatio stood just outside in the hallway and his smile grew wider as he listened to the other men. The tension that had pervaded the lab since the initial attack on Calleigh had finally eased. It was good to hear the light-hearted bantering again. Everything was getting back to normal and once a certain blonde ballistics expert returned, things would be as they should.

Eric glanced over and saw the Lieutenant. Waving him in, Delko smiled, "I'm supposed to let all of you know that dinner is being served at the Duquesne residence at six. If you want to come by after that for dessert, you're more than welcome."

Still smiling, Horatio ducked his head, "I'll be there." Frank and Ryan echoed their agreement. The Lieutenant turned away and headed towards his office and some much-needed paperwork. Halfway there, Horatio scowled slightly and slowed down. Rick Stetler was waiting near the end of the corridor. Squaring his shoulders, he strode purposefully towards the other man. While Rick's presence wasn't exactly unexpected, the anger that had reared up was. He'd have to be careful not to let it get out of hand. Horatio stopped a few feet away, sliding into his usual stance with his hands on his hips. Tilting his head, he gave Stetler a sideways look, "Rick."

"Horatio." Stetler was equally brief.

Horatio smiled a little and raised an eyebrow, "Come to congratulate us on catching Owens or are you just planning on apologizing to Eric Delko?"

Stetler bristled ever so slightly, "I was doing my job."

"And then some," Horatio agreed, lifting his head to stare at the IAB officer.

Flushing, Stetler looked away for a moment while his jaw clenched. The assault on Duquesne had turned into a nightmare for him. All he'd done was follow the evidence. Okay, he'd embellished a bit on the sorted little love triangle. Anyone could have reached the same conclusion. Now he was behind the damn eightball with the brass and Caine and his lab were once again golden. That made his current knowledge all the more frustrating.

Taking a deep breath, he turned back and glared at Horatio. He needed to keep his cool and keep this professional, "It's come to my attention that Delko and Duquesne are... involved."

His ire went up when Caine actually smiled at him, "Not quite yet, but I'm hoping."

Stetler cleared his throat and glanced away again, "She's your second in command - it's inappropriate."

Horatio deliberately misconstrued him, "I disagree. I'd say having Calleigh as my second is more than appropriate." He eyed Stetler, "She's supposed to make a full recovery, by the way - thank you for asking."

HIs expression tightening, Stetler persisted, "One of them will have to transfer." There was no way he was going to let Horatio know that Captain Aiden had ordered him to apologize to Duquesne for jumping to conclusions and then letting the information slip. It was damned unfair. It wasn't his fault that the beat cops loved to gossip.

Horatio leveled a look at Rick, "Why?"

"What do you mean, why?" Stetler's aggravation was growing by leaps and bounds. "It's against regulations."

Caine smiled again, "No, it's not. I checked."

Stetler looked away for a couple of seconds. That damn smug, arrogant son of a bitch was enjoying this way too much. "The appearance of impropriety... "

"And what impropriety would that be?" Horatio interrupted.

"Dammit, Horatio, you know what I'm talking about!"

"No I don't, but I do know you'll be right here to tell me about it should it ever come up. Until then, Rick," Horatio stepped in close, the relaxed posture gone, "Go apologize to Eric, and when Calleigh returns, you can apologize to her as well." With that, Horatio skirted around Stetler and continued down the hallway.


	24. Chapter 24

One more to go!

Chapter 24

Thursday,

9:30 pm

Eric walked out of the kitchen and stopped for a moment to look at Calleigh. She was curled up in the corner of the sofa with her head propped up by a hand. It was plain to see that she was tired. Horatio had picked up on it about 30 minutes ago and quietly ushered Frank and Ryan out despite Calleigh's protests that she was fine. Eric was beginning to worry again. When he'd arrived with the bags of food, she was reading one of her ballistic journals - or attempting to, anyway. It was obvious her concentration wasn't there and she'd been fighting sleep. When he'd suggested that she lay down for a bit while he got things ready, Calleigh had uncharacteristically snapped at him.

She'd also apologized immediately but it didn't change the fact that she was still on edge. Eric was regretting letting her talk him into going back to the lab. He should have known that the demons plaguing Calleigh wouldn't have been left behind at the hospital. Alone and unable to sleep for whatever reason, it was a good bet she'd been dwelling on the entire incident. Squaring his shoulders, he walked around the end of the sofa and crouched down in front of her, "Hey."

"Hey yourself," Calleigh responded with a small smile although her voice was devoid of its usual animation.

Eric reached out to rest his hands on either side of her, "You want to talk about it?" He could feel the sudden tension radiating from her at his question.

"There's nothing to talk about."

Great, she was going to be difficult. Eric raised an eyebrow while keeping his voice calm and soothing, "I think there is. You look exhausted. You haven't slept at all since you got home, have you?" He shifted a little when she didn't respond, "Nightmares?" She glanced away without saying anything but her silence was all the answer he needed. "Cal," Eric put a hand on her knee, ignoring how she flinched, "Look, I know it's hard right now but you're going have to sleep at some point or you're going wind up back in the hospital." If anything, Calleigh grew more tense. Eric sighed and stood up. Bending over, he offered his hands to her, "Come on, let's get ready for bed."

"Excuse me?" She stared at him, clearly startled. Despite her tone, Calleigh was experiencing the onslaught of an interesting quandary of emotions. There was a part of her that was giddily doing handsprings at what Eric seemed to be suggesting, while another part was urging caution. All of that was being increasingly overwhelmed by a rising sense of panic. The nightmares themselves were horrid enough. If Eric stayed, she would be forced to sleep in her bed, two things she'd been doing her best to avoid. So, unless she somehow could convince him to leave, Eric would be there to witness the whole sorry spectacle.

As if he was reading her mind, Eric folded his arms, "I'm staying here - on your couch, in the bathtub, hell, I'll sleep on the floor if I have to. You are not spending your first night home by yourself - not after everything you've been through. If you kick me out, I'll just sleep by your front door. Inside or out, I'm not leaving."

Calleigh stared at him, torn between gratitude, irritation and dread. Dammit, why did everything have to be so complicated? She wanted him with her desperately and with nearly the same desperation, she didn't.

"Calleigh," Eric said firmly, moving on to the issue at hand, "You can't spend the night on couch sitting like that. You'll look like a question mark in the morning." He gestured with his hands again, "Come on, it'll be okay. I promise." He smiled when she silently acquiesced, helping her to her feet. Tucking her in against his side, Eric wrapped an arm loosely around her waist while sliding his other forearm under her hand for additional support. By the time they'd made their way down the hallway to her bedroom, Calleigh was trembling slightly and her grip on his arm had tightened.

For the life of him, he didn't know if it was fatigue or fear. He hadn't said anything to Calleigh about it, but it hurt that she still wouldn't or couldn't open up to him about her ordeal. Everything he knew, he'd learned from his investigation and the reports of others. If hadn't been for the fact he was a CSI, he would have had no clue what she'd been through. It wasn't enough. He wanted to hear it from her. What was it going to take to get her to talk? Reaching the doorway, Delko brought his focus back to the present. Right now, Calleigh needed rest. Determinedly, Eric walked her into the bedroom and then stopped, "Why don't you get in the shower first? I have to run out to the car and get my overnight bag. Then you can relax for a bit while I shower." He let a bit of humor color his voice, "Unless you'd rather save water and shower together...?"

"Eric!"

He smiled a little. She had sounded caught between willing and scandalized. Delko shifted around so he could see her face and gave her a quick kiss on the temple, "I'll only be a minute. Are you going to need any help? I could scrub your back, you know - I'm pretty good at it." He wiggled his eyebrows so she would know he wasn't serious - not completely, anyway.

"You are, are you?"

Eric's smile grew wider. Beneath the arch tone, he could hear a ripple of amusement and she was beginning to relax against him. "You have no idea," his voice was velvet smooth.

"And you'd like to correct that?"

"In a heartbeat." He gave her another quick kiss before releasing his hold on her, turning serious again, "Are you going to be okay while I get my stuff?"

Calleigh rolled her eyes, "Yes. I'm fine. Go." She watched him leave and then slowly looked around her bedroom. Drawing in a shaky breath, she silently berated herself for the fear that starting to blossom. This was her bedroom, in her home, and there was absolutely nothing scary about it. Giving herself a shake, Calleigh skirted around the bed and headed for the dresser. Opening a drawer, she contemplated the contents for a few moments. Tonight was about comfort more than anything else. Despite the teasing banter with Eric, she really wasn't up for much more. Calleigh grabbed an old Academy t-shirt and then frowned in exasperation when another t-shirt came out with it and dropped to the floor.

Grumbling, she carefully reached down to retrieve the garment. Snagging it, she glanced up and froze, her gaze riveted on the bed. Oh god, not again...

Owens' voice filled her ears, "What do you see?" Calleigh jumped in surprise, unaware that he'd been anywhere near. Of course, what was left of her attention had been focused inward. The current had shut off over 30 seconds ago but instead of relief, she was feeling dread. These long intervals only made the resumption that much worse. "I said, what do you see?" Owens' voice was closer and more insistent.

Grimly, she kept silent. The shock that hit her next forced a scream of pain out of her already raw throat. It ended abruptly although her muscles continued to spasm. Owens was suddenly beside her, "Well, now we know your voice works." He disappeared from her view and she tensed, waiting for his next move. It didn't take long. He grabbed her hair from behind and yanked her head back, making her gasp as the wire loop dug in deeper, "Tell me what you see." When she still refused, he let go and the shock hit right after. Again, it stopped abruptly and she sagged against the restraints.

"You are a stubborn woman," Owens sounded half amused and half angry, "but we're going to fix that." He was walking back and forth behind her. "You need to understand that this is your new life. No one's going to show up in the nick of time to rescue you. We're already in international waters and by tomorrow, we'll be in Haiti. From now on, the nature of your existence will depend upon my pleasure. You will obey or I will punish you and I can dole out far more than you can stand." He stopped moving, "Tell me what you see."

She managed a small shake of her head despite the black despair that threatened to overwhelm her. International waters? Whatever sliver of hope she'd held onto finally died. There was no way to stop this nightmare now short of dying and that clearly wasn't going to happen. Calleigh yelped when Owens unexpectedly brought both fists down between her shoulder blades. The next blow caught her in the short ribs, forcing even more air from her lungs and making her contort as she tried to curl around the pain. She was still gasping when he shifted his attention to the side closest to the older wound in her back. Her vision was starting to gray out when he finally stopped the beating and grabbed her hair again, yanking her head up, "What do you see?"

Reeling from the pain, she whispered, "The bed."

"Wrong!" He threw her head forward and the jolt that followed stole what little breath she had left. As soon as it ended, he had her by the hair again, his face close to her ear, "That. Is. Your. Future. Say it." He punctuated each word by pulling her head further back. There was blood trickling down either side of her neck from the wire. When she didn't speak right away, Owens gave her head a hard shake, "Say it."

"My future." Her voice cracked. She knew she was nearly at the end of her strength. If she'd been in any position to move, the terror and dread twisting her guts would have dropped her to the floor. She could barely think anymore, her mind retreating into itself. It was over. The next twenty-four hours would see her in his bed on his terms.

"Very good. You're learning." He let go and walked out and a few seconds later, the current started again.

"...Calleigh!"

Startled, she jerked back and gave a sharp exclamation of pain when her elbow connected with the dresser. Blinking rapidly, she finally brought Eric into focus. He was kneeling in front of her looking terribly worried. Blushing, she dropped her gaze. Dammit, he hadn't needed to see that. Exhaling slowly, Calleigh leaned against the dresser and slid down until she was sitting on floor. When she realized she was still holding the t-shirt, she dropped it like it was on fire.

Silently, Delko moved over and settled next to her, his shoulder lightly touching hers. When she didn't pull away, he firmed up the contact. "What just happened?" His voice was infinitely soft.

"The usual," Calleigh closed her eyes and leaned her head back, bringing up a hand to lightly rub the healing abrasions on her neck. "I'm losing my mind."

"That's not true," Eric countered quietly. When she turned slightly to look at him, he ducked his head, "I've, um, I've been doing some research. You're having flashbacks?" He glanced over to see her reluctantly nod and nodded himself, "I know it's not much help now, but they will go away." He broached the next subject cautiously, "Dale prescribed sleeping pills, didn't he? Maybe..."

He didn't get any further before Calleigh reacted, jerking away from him, "No!" She began struggling to her feet, swearing silently at the difficulties her injuries were causing. Delko scrambled up, too, and then reached down to help. She tried not to flinch as his hands closed around her arms, halfway expecting to feel the bruising again.

"Calleigh... " Eric started again.

"No," Calleigh pulled away, catching herself on the dresser. She leaned there for a moment, looking down, unable to meet his eyes, "You don't understand. I can't." His silence begged the question and her shoulders slumped a little. He deserved an explanation. Keeping her eyes fixed on the dresser, she took a breath, "It's too easy, Eric, too damn tempting. I won't be able to stop."

Delko frowned, "But in the hospital..."

"I didn't have much choice," Calleigh cut in with some asperity, "and I couldn't get my hands on it at any time. You know my father's an alcoholic. It's not just a social problem, it's a disease and it runs in families. Hell, it gallops in mine. My dad's dad had a reputation for being able to drink anyone under the table in a three-state radius, my mom's not far behind and my youngest brother has been proudly drowning himself in the family tradition for the last ten years." She rubbed her forehead, "Now I've got that son of a bitch, Owens, in my head and I can't get rid of him. Do you have any idea how easy it would be to self-medicate myself into oblivion? I am not going to fall down that rabbithole. I'd never get out."

"Okay," Eric soothed, "Okay, then. We'll find another way to help you sleep. No pills."

She shot him a wry look, "No dropping anvils on my head either. It hurts enough."

He chuckled at that, a feeling of relief washing over him. If she could make a joke about it, then she was regaining her equilibrium. "Remind me to tell you about Frank and Ryan's theories of how you combat boredom."

She managed a smile, "I'm not sure I want to know."

Calleigh suddenly sagged against the dresser as the last of the adrenalin disappeared, leaving an overwhelming exhaustion in its wake. Eric reacted quickly, stepping forward and scooping her up in his arms, ignoring an almost inaudible murmur of protest. The self-imposed lack of sleep added to the toll her body was now claiming. Beyond tired, Calleigh gave up and closed her eyes.

Eric was surprised and a little alarmed at how light she was. Never a heavyweight to begin with, her ordeal and the hospitalizations after had taken their toll, dropping pounds off her slight frame. He stood for a moment, undecided on his course of action. She was fading fast in his arms and if he went through the bedtime preparations, it would wake her again. He didn't want to go through a repeat performance of what he'd just witnessed and it was a safe bet Calleigh didn't either.

Coming to a decision, Eric moved to the living room. It wasn't that late yet, he would let her sleep if she could for a few hours and then try getting her settled in bed afterwards. Lowering himself onto the corner of the couch, he arranged himself as comfortably as he could with Calleigh leaning against his chest. She barely stirred. Stretching out a hand, he managed to snag the remote and flicked on the TV, turning the volume down low. Selecting a 24 hour news channel, Eric put down the remote, wrapped his arms loosely around Calleigh's waist and began his vigil.

It didn't take long before she was moving restlessly, her body stiffening in response to whatever dream she was having. Eric slid his hands up to her shoulders and pulled her closer, whispering soothing reassurances in her ear. It took a little while before she relaxed again, never fully waking up. Eric relaxed as well. Hopefully, he could continue to keep the demons at bay.

It was after midnight when Calleigh finally began to stir. She'd shifted in her sleep until she was somewhat on her side, wedged under Eric's arm and braced by the back of the couch. Her head was resting on his chest and one arm was flung across his waist. Delko's eyes flew open, he'd been lightly dozing for the last half hour or so. Twice more, nightmares had disturbed her rest and he'd managed to reassure her without quite waking her up. This didn't seem like the beginnings of another bad dream so he watched as her eyes fluttered open. Groggy from sleep, she was obviously confused at where she found herself. Eric gave her a smile when she finally looked at him, "Hey, how are you feeling?"

She shook her head while scrubbing at her face and took another look around, "I... um... what happened?" While waking up in Eric's arms had always been a pleasant daydream, she had never imagined herself to be totally clueless at how she got there.

He couldn't resist a small smirk, "Your body overruled your head and decided you needed rest. I pulled guard duty." Eric watched as she digested that, noting her cheeks reddening as she ducked her head. He cut off any attempt at an apology, "It's okay, Cal. It was nice being useful for once."

She stared at him in shock, 'useful for once'? "Are you kidding? You've saved me in more ways than I could possibly count. How could you..." Her voice trailed off as he glanced away. Fully awake now, she carefully pushed herself upright, trying not to aggravate the injured rib. The position she'd been in had caused it to ache. In any case, this wasn't a conversation she could have while laying halfway across him.

"Calleigh," Eric turned back as he felt her pull away. Inwardly, he was cursing himself for letting that moment of self-pity slip out. She was dealing with the aftermath of a hellish experience and here he was whining because she didn't want to talk about it. 'Didn't want to talk about it with you', countered that annoying little voice in the back of his head, 'and you've practically proposed to her. She apparently didn't have any problem talking to her father, Dale or Frank Tripp. She probably talked to Horatio, too, for all you know. She was pretty shaken after his visit. Where the hell does that leave you?'

"What's this about, Eric?" Calleigh retreated to the other side of the couch and folded her arms tightly. She suspected that she knew but needed to hear it. If she'd learned nothing else over the years, it was 'never assume'.

As she halfway expected, he shook his head, "It's nothing, forget about it."

"No, I want to know what's bothering you."

He gave her an incredulous look, "You want to know what's bothering me? That's pretty good, coming from you." Eric seldom lost his temper with Calleigh but that didn't mean he wasn't capable of it.

She stared at him, teetering between tears and going off like Mt. St. Helens, "What are you talking about?"

"I want you to let me help, dammit, and instead it feels like you're keeping me at arm's length," Delko snapped. More shaken than he realized by the scene he'd witnessed in the bedroom, he was also tired, frustrated and stressed. His normally loud voice of reason was being overwhelmed by the need to vent.

"Arm's length," Calleigh repeated slowly, "Arm's length? How can you say that? You're here with me right now - not Horatio, not Ryan, not Alexx - you."

"I know and believe me, it means a lot. It's just that..." Delko looked away in exasperation, "It just seems like you can talk to everyone but me. How the hell can I help you get past this when I don't know exactly what it is you're trying to get past?"

"Everyone?" Calleigh's face reddened. The balance was beginning to tip towards anger and she took a slow breath to try and calm herself, "Excuse me, but I had to talk to Dale and Frank. Sweet Jesus, Eric, it's not like I had a choice in the matter!"

"And H and your father?" his voice was a quiet growl of frustration, "No choice there, either?"

Her eyes narrowed, "Horatio knows as much as you do and you can leave my father out of this."

He was in dangerous waters now and steaming past the warning signs as all the worry, guilt and anger he'd been suppressing came crashing out, "I wish I could but he knows more about what's going on than I do. Why won't you talk to me?"

Her temper which had been steadily spiking towards an explosion, deflated with his last question. Chewing her lower lip, she glanced away, her eyes becoming suspiciously bright. "I can't, not yet," her voice was barely above a whisper.


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

4 Weeks Later

Thursday,

2:45 pm

Horatio stood in his office and looked down at the lab. Yesterday, Calleigh had passed the department physical and finally been allowed out in the field. She, Eric and Ryan were just returning from a multiple shooting in one of the poorer neighborhoods of Miami. Frank Tripp was still with them. The three men, whether subconsciously or by design, were in a defensive bracket around the petite blonde. Horatio would bet a month's pay that they'd managed to do the same thing at the crime scene, too. Calleigh was smiling at something Ryan just said, so she either wasn't paying attention or, more likely, was letting the men indulge in their protective streak for a time. Eventually she'd put her foot down and shoo them off. He smiled when she glanced up at his office. She responded with a wave and a wide grin of her own before continuing down the corridor to log in their evidence.

Eric trailed a little behind Calleigh and Ryan, bringing up the rear of their little quartet. He couldn't help feeling a bit jealous of Wolfe's ability to converse normally as if nothing was wrong. More and more, he was regretting that first night at her condo. Frustrated or not, he should have never lost his temper. They'd apologized to each other and he'd spent the night as planned but it was on the couch while she went to her bedroom. With the door shut, he had no idea if she slept on the bed, the floor or the bathtub, or for that matter, if she even slept at all. Calleigh hadn't looked any more rested than he did the next morning. They'd both been subdued and he'd left not long after helping clean up the breakfast dishes.

They'd gone on a few dates after that, or gone to each other's places for dinner and movies but the 800 lb. gorilla in the room kept getting in the way. He didn't know what to do about it. Calleigh didn't seem mad at him - that he could have handled. It was the guilt that lurked in the back of her eyes whenever she looked at him. That was making him crazy. It was his fault and she was blaming herself. He'd backed her into a proverbial corner but she'd slipped past and fled for the hills. Dammit, he knew her well enough to know that however courageous she was in her professional life, when it came to personal stuff, she had a tough time holding her ground. Calleigh never did tell him the details of what Owens had tried to do and now he wasn't sure if he'd ever find out.

Attempted casual questioning on his part had revealed that Alexx hadn't been confided in either. It didn't seem to faze the ME in the least. Instead, she'd given him a look that said she knew exactly what he'd been fishing for. In a tone that sounded amazingly like his mother's when she thought he was on the verge of something stupid, Alexx emphasized that Calleigh knew she was always available if needed. She was content to wait. So it seemed that Dr. Lindsay and Kenwall Duquesne were the only ones to hear the whole story and he was pretty much out of luck. Delko couldn't breach doctor-patient or father-daughter confidentiality and that was that. It was frustrating the hell out of him.

He was at a dead end, officially, as well. ADA Spinner had decided he didn't need Calleigh's testimony to convict Owens. The journal Eric and Ryan had found had solved at least three cold cases while investigations continued into the other victims listed in its pages. Victor Kluge had been exhumed and a more thorough autopsy had proven that he died by electrocution, not a drug overdose. With four more murder charges in addition to the Hennessey killings against Owens, as well as murder of Officer Sanderson, the two attempts on Calleigh and the one on Alexx, Spinner figured he could make his capital case several times over without putting the CSI on the stand.

Lest anyone accuse the ADA of having any sort of compassion, Spinner had mentioned in passing to Horatio and Eric that he was actually relieved not to be calling Calleigh as a witness. He didn't need feminine hysterics during the cross and he'd heard through the grapevine that Duquesne had been a basket case right after her rescue. It was all Delko could do not to hit the smugly arrogant attorney. He was pretty sure the worst trauma the ADA had ever been through had been a longer than usual line at Starbucks. Horatio had been nearly as angry. His voice, when he 'suggested' Spinner go back to shuffling papers, had dropped the temperature in the room a good ten degrees. Frank, true to his Texas upbringing when he heard, had been a good deal more colorful in describing both Spinner's personality faults and physical attributes.

Fortunately, Horatio and Eric were the only two Spinner talked to, so it was easy to keep it from Calleigh. Tripp had only been half-joking when he suggested they put in for a commendation for saving the ADA's life. Pissing off a Southern woman who was more than a little handy with guns was a surefire way to get killed.

"Eric, everything okay?"

Eric tensed and then turned to find Horatio behind him. Dammit, the man must have his own personal transporter. Eric could have sworn Caine had been in his office a moment ago. He tried to appear unconcerned, "Sure, H. No problems."

Horatio glanced away as his hands came to rest on his hips, "Nothing you'd care to mention, you mean."

Eric stiffened a little as he shook his head, "Really, everything's fine."

Horatio gave him a sideways look and then turned towards the conference rooms, "Let's step in here for a minute."

Eric followed slowly, feeling like a kid again, being called to the principal's office. Horatio was already by a window, looking out, when Eric finally made it through the doorway. The Lieutenant kept his head turned away, his tone casual, "Calleigh's a remarkable woman."

Delko stopped mid-stride and then nodded warily, "I've always thought so."

"Remarkably difficult at times," Horatio continued in the same vein. He finally turned enough to look at Eric, "How did she do at the crime scene today?"

"Good, H," Eric shrugged a little. This was one of the odder conversations he'd ever had with Horatio, "Professional as always. You'd never know she'd been out for nearly two months."

"Makes it that much harder, doesn't it?" Horatio remarked dryly. At the look on Delko's face, he smiled, "It's not easy to act supportive when she's already standing there on her own two feet."

"H, I - ", Eric stopped, not willing to admit to anything.

Horatio raised a hand and let it fall, gazing out the window again, "It's a front and we both know it. She still needs our help."

Eric snorted softly at that and then froze when Horatio turned to face him. The Lieutenant cocked his head to the side, "Eric?"

Delko shook his head. He wasn't about to discuss he and Calleigh's relationship - or lack thereof - with their boss.

"Eric," Horatio repeated and then paused, letting his gaze drop towards the floor, "I'm sure you remember our discussion in Dale's office. She's not trying to hurt you."

Eric fought the urge to snap that this was none of H's business. Instead, he took a deep breath, "I don't think we should go there." What the hell was Horatio trying to do? Play Dr. Phil? He would have expected this sort of thing from Alexx. The ME was infinitely better at it.

Horatio finally looked him in the eye, "Yes, we should. You're not happy and she's not happy. As much as I'd like to stay out of it, I will not let this affect the performance of the lab." He glanced away again, "Besides, I made a promise."

Confused, Eric stared back, "What?" What was Horatio talking about now?

Horatio smiled softly in memory, "Years ago, when I went to New Orleans to interview their ballistics expert, I'd pretty much decided that she was the one I wanted. Her credentials were impeccable and even back then, word was starting to get around that this woman was the real deal. I was determined to get her to Miami before any of the other labs across the country recognized how good she was going to be. Then I ran into Lt. Markus Cabell. I'd arrived late in the afternoon at the NOPD and he wouldn't let me see her. Instead, he dragged me to this little hole-in-the-wall bar. I realized after the first beer that I was the one being interviewed."

"You're kidding," Eric couldn't imagine anyone diverting Horatio from his intended course. The man was like a force of nature when he was focused on a goal. There were a lot of unhappy criminals behind bars right now because of that trait.

Caine shook his head, "It was an... interesting experience. Lt. Cabell had been keeping an eye on her since she graduated the Academy. He tended to follow the top graduate of each class, mentoring those that were exemplary."

"But H," Delko frowned, "Calleigh was second in her class."

Horatio shrugged, "According to Markus, she should have been first but she got involved with another cadet. He graduated at the top, was offered a spot as an undercover narc, took it and left her."

"He used her," Eric said in disgust. He'd known a few of those types in college.

"Seemed that way to Markus. He kept an eye out while she worked patrol and took forensic courses during her off-hours. After a year or so, it was apparent her field was ballistics. Even the detectives were using her expertise as an unofficial CSI. Cabell stepped in and made it official, hiring her for his lab. She exceeded his expectations and everything seemed fine until he noticed she was working more and more." Horatio paused for a moment, "To make a long story short, it turned out that Darnell was way too close to New Orleans. Calleigh wouldn't say anything but her family was turning her life into a train wreck. The lab was the one place she could avoid them. Markus decided to find her a new home and he was very serious about it being the right one."

Eric folded his arms, raising an eyebrow. It was stupid but he was feeling a twinge of jealousy towards this Markus, "I'm surprised Calleigh let him have that much say in her life."

"He told her he was screening job offers so she wouldn't have to waste time on the ones that weren't going to work out." Horatio's expression turned wry, "I seriously doubt she knew how thorough his screening procedure was."

That prompted a soft snort from Eric. He looked at the Lieutenant, "Obviously you passed inspection."

"Just barely," Horatio shook his head, "And after all that, I still had to convince Calleigh that Miami was a great opportunity."

"It was," Eric sounded a little offended. Miami was his hometown and he loved the place, warts and all.

"I thought so," Horatio agreed mildly, "But you have to remember she was getting offers from across the country. Still is, for that matter. I field one or so a month." Eric's eyebrows rose in surprise. Horatio smiled at his reaction and continued with his story, "Once Calleigh agreed to come, I thought I was home free until Lt. Cabell showed up at my hotel door with a bottle of very good bourbon and a couple of very real threats."

Eric stared at Caine, "He threatened you? Seriously? About what?"

Horatio finally turned to face his CSI, "After we killed half the bottle, he told me he thought of Calleigh as a daughter. He made me promise to watch out for her like she was my own family. In turn, he promised to emasculate any man who hurt her and then do the same to me for failing my promise."

"Ouch," Eric winced at the thought and then stared at Horatio, "Does he know about Owens?" He couldn't help the faint grimace as he mentioned that bastard's name.

"He does," Horatio replied, eyeing Delko appraisingly. "Is this about Owens?"

Damn, the man was like a dog with a bone. He just wouldn't let go. Eric shrugged and glanced away, "She won't talk to me."

Horatio cocked an eyebrow, "Won't talk to you about what specifically?"

Eric looked away again as he rubbed at his neck, "About Owens; about what he did, what he was trying to do. She doesn't trust me."

"Like hell," Horatio decided not to mince words, "Of course she trusts you. If she didn't, you'd be facing a wall of southern politeness and not much else." He turned back to the window, "If you're serious about her, you're going to have to be patient."

"If I'm serious about her?" Eric snapped in exasperation. All the anger and frustration was starting to bubble close to the surface. "On come on, H. What's it gonna take? I've tried to be there for her. She's the one who's pulling away. She doesn't want my help."

"Is that what you think?"

Caine's tone was once again mild and Eric flinched slightly. He'd heard that line before. Usually just before Horatio lowered the boom on someone. Surprisingly, it did nothing to dampen his aggravation, "What else am I supposed to think?"

"Eric," Horatio sounded a bit exasperated himself. "This is Calleigh we're talking about. She's one of the toughest, most strong-minded women I know and she's dealing with this in her own way, in her own time. I don't know if it's the healthiest solution or not, but it's her choice. I know it's just killing you. You want to help and she's keeping you from that part of her life." He held up a hand, "Don't get me wrong, Eric. I don't doubt for a moment that Calleigh loves you but, as much as you need to help her, that's how much she needs to do this by herself."

"But she's not. She's talked to Dr. Lindsay and her father about it," Eric argued.

"Eric," Horatio had the temerity to chuckle, "Listen to yourself. She's talked to a psychiatrist and her father - what did you expect?"

Delko looked away, "Okay, Lindsay, maybe, even though she hates shrinks, but her father? That man has caused her more grief over the years than any person has a right to and he's the one she turns to for help?"

"He's her father," Horatio said gently, "It's a powerful bond. You know your parents would move heaven and earth for you if they had to. Don't be jealous because she turned to the only relation she has in Miami."

"I'm not jealous."

Horatio didn't even bother answering that statement, he just arched an eyebrow, "Let it go, Eric. Give her space and time and she'll find her way back."

- - - - - -

Alexx glanced over her shoulder as she heard the morgue doors open and smiled in greeting, "Hey sweetie, how was your first day out in the field?"

"Oh you know, same old, same old," Calleigh replied with a breezy nonchalance that lasted until Alexx turned and gave her a look. A wide grin spread across Calleigh's face, "It was such a relief to get out of the lab." She arched an eyebrow, assuming a haughty expression, "I just might do it again tomorrow."

"You go, girl," Alexx chuckled as she turned back to the body she was working on.

Calleigh walked up on the other side, sliding on a pair of gloves, "Got any bullets for me?"

"Looks like two," the ME replied. She gave her friend another look, the one Ryan referred to as the 'ninja-mom, laser look'. The one that made you confess to things you only thought about doing, "How was it really?"

Calleigh shrugged slightly. She had a deal with Alexx. The ME wouldn't pry into the other stuff if Calleigh gave her an honest appraisal of how she was handling things on a day to day basis. "A little nerve-wracking once I was processing the scene." She shook her head with a self-depreciating chuckle, "I kept looking over my shoulder. The boys were sweet, though. They had me surrounded. I don't think I was out of anyone's sight the entire time."

"Can't say I blame them for that," Alexx said as she dropped the first slug into a bowl. "One more to go."

".38 with a right-hand twist," Calleigh commented, looking at the slug before dropping it into an evidence envelope. "That's consistent with one of the weapons we found."

"Got a suspect to go with the weapon?" Alexx continued to dig for the second bullet.

"Frank's looking at a low-life drug dealer." Calleigh watched as Alexx pulled out the small, misshapen slug. She held out another evidence envelope and the ME obligingly dropped the bullet in.

"What did Eric say about you being out there?" When she didn't get an immediate response, Alexx looked up at her friend, "Calleigh?"

Calleigh lifted one shoulder a little and let it fall, "He seemed okay about it. I mean, he knows how much I've needed to get back in the field."

"But...," Alexx focused on the blonde with a slight frown.

"I don't know," Calleigh took a deep breath and looked away in frustration. Alexx wasn't someone to whom she could lie and get away with it, even if she'd been inclined to try. She hadn't really meant to get caught in this particular conversation. Bad enough things were not going that smoothly with Eric, having to share her failures with Alexx wasn't something she really wanted to do.

"Baby, what's wrong?"

Great, now she had Alexx's full attention, "What's not?" It was said without rancor while Calleigh fiddled absently with the evidence envelope. She steadfastly refused to look Alexx in the eye, knowing the ME would be able to read more than she wanted known. "I'm pretty sure I've hurt his feelings and I don't know what to do about it."

"Well, talk to him," Alexx made it sound obvious.

Calleigh determinedly kept her head down, "I can't. He wants to talk about Owens and I... I just can't. He doesn't understand. Hell, I'm not always sure I understand."

"Oh, sweetie," There was a wealth of sympathy in Alexx's voice. Eric was one of her favorites. He was an incredibly compassionate man and if Calleigh wasn't letting him share the burden, he would be deeply hurt. On the other hand, she could see Calleigh's point as well. The ballistics expert was a fiercely independent, strong-willed woman and while Alexx didn't know exactly what Owens had done, it was clear to the ME that it had nearly broken her friend. Her redemption had to come from within. Calleigh needed to rebuild that inner core and it wasn't something that Eric could help fix.

"It's just so - so frustrating," Calleigh gaze slid sideways, still away from Alexx. "I don't want to push him away but that's what it feels like I'm doing."

"Calleigh, honey," Alexx hesitated, not wanting to upset her friend more, "Isn't there something you can share with him? He just wants to know that you need him."

Calleigh finally looked at Alexx, "I know that and I've tried." She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, "God, I hate irony. I need him more than I can say and I can't seem to convince him of it. Its Owens or nothing." Calleigh glanced away again, "It's not helping that he knows I've talked to Dad about it."

Alexx frowned, "You told your father about what Owens did? All of it?" She couldn't help feeling slightly shocked. It wasn't her place to judge but Kenwall Duquesne didn't seem like the most reliable support to turn to. It was no wonder Eric was having issues.

"All that I could remember at the time," Calleigh reacted defensively. Why couldn't anyone understand how necessary it had been to talk to her father? He already knew of her failings and loved her anyway. She hadn't needed to elaborate on everything when she talked to him. He was adept with the nuances. Who knew where she'd be right now if her Dad hadn't been there for her? Probably in another state or stuck in some psycho ward, counting her toes.

Alexx raised a hand, "Easy, girl. I wasn't criticizing. I was a little surprised. That's not something I think I could tell my father... or take hearing from my kids."

Calleigh relaxed a little, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to jump down your throat either." She dropped her gaze to evidence envelope again, her voice soft, "It's just not working and it's all my fault."

"I don't think it's all on you but I do know you need to talk to him," Alexx tilted her head, trying to catch her friend's eye, "Go find Eric, and if you need a shoulder later, I'm here."

"Thanks, I might take you up on that," Calleigh offered her friend a bit of a smile before squaring her shoulders and walking out of the room.

- - - - - - -

Thursday,

4:40 pm

"Hey Cal," Eric did his best to hide his nervousness. A subdued Calleigh had caught up with him in the breakroom nearly an hour ago and asked to talk. She'd been about to start when Ryan and Valera walked in. Immediately shutting down, she'd given him a quick smile and retreated. Now he was standing on the threshold of her domain, trying to quell the feeling that this was a conversation he wasn't going to enjoy.

Calleigh looked up from her microscope and gave him a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, "Hey, come on in."

He walked up to the table, "Bullets from the shooting this morning?"

She nodded, relieved at the small talk, "No surprises so far, everything looks pretty straightforward. Both dealers fired multiple times. Our suspect was the better shot - eventually."

He smiled a little at that, "Something to be said for persistence, I guess. So you were okay for the first time out." It was a half-statement, half-question.

"Uh-huh. I have to admit I was a bit nervous," Calleigh shrugged a little, not wanting to worry him but not wishing to conceal anything either. All things considered, it was the least she could do. "It helped that you guys never let me out of your sight."

Eric looked down, "You weren't the only one who was nervous." His gaze wandered to the far wall, "You wanted to talk?"

Calleigh couldn't quite look at him either, "I think we need to."

"Yeah, okay, but not here. It's almost the end of shift. Let's go," He held out a hand, surprisingly relieved when she didn't hesitate to take it. He led her out of Ballistics, heading for the nearest exit.

"Where are we going?" Calleigh finally asked as they approached his Hummer. She wasn't sure if either of their places was a good idea.

Eric was obviously thinking along the same lines, "Neutral ground." Neither said anything else as he pulled out and started to drive. Fifteen minutes later, he parked in a small lot near a semi-private beach. Finally looking over at her, he asked, "You want to sit and talk or walk and talk?"

"Walk," was her immediate response. She slid out of her heels as he got out and walked around to open her door. When it wasn't official business, he could indulge in being a gentleman and she could let him. Taking her hand, he helped her out and escorted her to the small boardwalk that led to the shore. They walked in silence for a few minutes before Calleigh cleared her throat, "Eric, I don't think this is working between us." She hurried on before he could reply, "It's not your fault. It's me and I don't think it's fair to keep doing this to you. Neither of us are happy with the way things are right now."

Eric quit walking, making her stop and turn towards him, "But it will get better. I can wait."

She searched his face, "Can you? Because I don't know how long this will take. We've been seeing each other for a month and haven't been intimate because I keep panicking. It's stupid but I can't seem to stop it." Calleigh dropped her gaze to the sand, "I do love you but I'm damaged and you're not the one who can fix me."

"You don't know that. You won't let me try." Eric fought to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

"I can't," Her voice was a ragged whisper. She finally looked up at him again, "I'll give Horatio my letter of resignation tomorrow."

"NO! No," he repeated a little more quietly. Eric took a deep breath to try and calm himself, "Look, you don't have to leave. We can be adults about this. I told you before that whatever happened between us, we'd still be friends. I meant that."

Calleigh turned her head to stare out at the ocean, "But can we work together? I don't know if I could handle seeing you each day, knowing how I've hurt you. It would be better if I left."

Eric gripped her arms lightly, waiting for her to face him again, "Listen to me, it would hurt a lot more if you left. Don't put me through that. We're both professionals, we can make it work." He tried a tentative smile to offset the guilt he was laying on her, "Besides, you're one of the best ballistic experts out there. Horatio would shoot me for chasing you away and Alexx would hide the body."

She exhaled slowly as she stared at him, trying to resolve the conflicting emotions. It was a relief to know that she might not have to cut herself off from what was essentially her second family. That was being balanced by the pain of seeing Eric day in and day out, knowing she'd blown what was her heart's desire. She straightened her spine, it would be a fitting penance in a way. Calleigh finally gave him a smile, a bit shaky but a smile nevertheless, "Well, we can't have that, can we?"

Eric smiled back, "No, we can't." He felt relieved beyond belief that she was going to stay. Horatio had been right. If he wanted her back, he needed to let her go. The important thing was that she stayed in Miami - stayed at the lab. Who knew what the future would bring? He would hold on to hope.

The End

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Well, that's it. I hope that those of you who've been following this, enjoyed it. My heartfelt thanks to all who reviewed - Elislin and Shel2005, I don't think you missed a chapter and I appreciate that more than I can say. This has been an experience and I suppose I'll be wandering back to the JAG fanfic site now.


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